When I was walking out of my room a couple of days ago, I had the fleeting but very powerful impression that I was England. (Er, the personification of England in Hetalia, rather than the actual landmass.) For a moment, I was convinced that I was a blond man with bright green eyes and eyebrows that could probably swallow people whole (the eyebrows
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I sort of hope this is something everyone experiences but considers so extremely normal that they don't bother to talk about it.
I-I am not sure this is the case, Riona. (I will admit that I have had days where sometimes I pretend I am Kevin Jonas so that I will feel 300% more awesome than I really am, but I have never believed that I am actually Kevin Jonas, although since he is a real person perhaps this is not surprising. Or does that make it more likely that I could fleetingly turn into him?)
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...ahahaha, that's a bit brilliant. BUT I LIKE ENGLAND, AND I DON'T LIKE FARFETCH'D. (Never forgiving myself for trading away my beloved Spearow. Never. Sorry, Farfetch'd; holding a grudge against you for something stupid I did isn't terribly fair, but I cannot help myself.
Actually, I can see England with a Spearow.)
I-I am not sure this is the case, Riona.
BLAST. I am disappointed, but I cannot say I am entirely surprised.
(Also, your pretending-to-be-Kevin-Jonas is adorable.
Didn't you know, RD? You have been Kevin Jonas all along.)
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You know, I'm almost let down by that part of the sentence. I'm picturing you with a stomach ache and going, "Hm. Leicestershire seems to be giving me gyp."
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(And I love your icon!)
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A little better; opening my mouth still hurts, but I'm not having digestive pains any more. Thank you!
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I just keep hearing about it and I have no idea what it is.
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