(no subject)

Right now, I want to know why Frank the LJ goat has little hearts floating around for him. It's too early for Valentine's (unless you're a retail store), and I'm not ready to deal with goat love.

(no subject)

It's so easy to pretend the world is dead, that everyone everywhere suddenly, tragically, silently slumped to the ground without my noticing. That's almost halfway true; there's no sound of life but my own breathing, and do things that I can't perceive in any way really exist to me?

The truth, of course, is that it's an odd hour of the night and PPN has been somewhat faded recently. But truth is far less than appealing.

The distance straight between the tip of my thumb and the tip of my pinkie finger, with fingers spread as far as I can, is 8.5" on my left hand and 8" on my right. You'd think the right would be greater. I find this vaguely unsatisfactory, and whenever I happen to think about it, I stretch my hand out fully and hold it for thirty seconds, until the webbing between my fingers starts to burn a bit. I'm not quite certain what this will accomplish, but it might accomplish something, which is more than I can say of most of what I do. *wry grin*

(no subject)

I figured out how to end all of the angst and tragedy in the Queen's Own trilogy. All it requires is me being a tiny voice in Kris' ear for about five minutes.

( Madness )

So... I'm officially crazy, now.

All Present: Yep.