Damaris

Never mind, it'll only make sense to one or two of you.

What a good start to the day! trishpiglet has added me to her friends list - thank you so much ~flowers & confetti~
And feanelwa has left me sweet comments that cheered me up. So today may generally suck less than yesterday did. Yay!

Happy Birthday, babysimon (even though I know you don't read my journal so someone will have to tell you I said it...)

In other news, Nicky "I am a tortured poet" Wire and Richey Edwards...(I worship that last photograph.)
They're just not real, are they?
I now have an entirely surreal image in my head, mainly due to the fact that the Manics are now inextricably linked in my head with boyofbadgers. ~shakes head~ Oh dear.

Lyrics, as promised, at the bottom of this page. But it's nothing without the music. Which is beautiful. Really.

Anyway. Awake now.
They just played Agadoo on TV for some obscure reason. ~shakes head~

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See? Why do I ever say anything on LJ? Ever? Do I, or do I not, know without doubt or question that saying anything remotely complimentary about a person or even simply their journal will result in my being treated like a complete freak by people who previously appeared to think I was sane. (I know this is an overreaction, but I feel humiliated and that prompts the worst of my reactions.)

Ach. From now on my journal entries will read "I hate evry1, ESSPECIALY MY PARENTZ", I will start listening to Spunge and KoRn, and I will never ever again mention finding anyone or indeed merely anyone's journal intelligent, beautiful, sweet, lovely, captivating, powerful, or any adjective which could be considered positive and could be used by anyone with an IQ above zero.

Grrrrrr.

Yes, I should sit over here and whine and never mention the people who occasionally make my world bearable to open my eyes in, because obviously, if I show even a tiny bit of appreciation for someone, or even just their writing, I'm clearly insane and must be humoured as if I'd just suggested that Jeffrey Archer be allowed out of prison to tapdance across the Millennium Bridge. Right? Right. Jesus, I am so glad we got that clear.

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I feel better now though. ~s~ I'm now watching Sabrina The Teenage Witch and wondering why my definition of "humiliation" is so different from anyone else's.

And I love you all. xxxxxxx

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~bites lip~
...but he's just so fantastic.

~sellotapes hands behind back in attempt to stop self from going on about it~

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Currently I'm lonesome for a lunatic murderer who died around a hundred years ago.
So I'm reading poems people have written about him instead...they're making me feel remarkably sane.
The murderer in question is currently probably hiding from a Space concert.

...I'd hate to be an ordinary person. What do they do without situations like this to be in? ~g~

All the poems by men have been written 'in memory of the victims', while the one by a woman is 'a tribute to Jack'. ~cough~predictable~cough~.
But she describes him as an "incubus", a conclusion I hadn't thought to make and rather like.
"Seems to me under the trickster's new moon he was born..."
The rest of the poem is appalling - my dear, have you heard of scansion? - but I did like ^that...

Oh, and the fluorescent light in my kitchen seems to be leaking water. Which wechsler has just pointed out is Not A Good Thing, rather than just being an Odd Thing. ~taps side of head~ Brain not working. Like, at all.

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Can't be bothered to try to work out why ICQ refuses to install; if you were suggesting that we talked, feanelwa, I'm sorry - my computer sucks like Divine Brown and it'd be easier for me just to call you.
Anyway I'm tired so I'm going to go to bed. I shall awake in the morning to wait and wait and wait and wait until aegidian returns, and then, egads, I don't even want to think about what next week is going to be like. ~groan~ There promises to be much "Why-am-I-doing-this?". Lucky you lot, you get to hear about it!

Goodnight all.

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