thewingedword

  I haven't been updating much, and that's because this is one of those times where I'm so happy that there's no real need for blogging. Blogging is like a pearl of questionable value, born from some irritant that you feel the need to share with other people, and right now I'm so self-containedly content that it's ridiculous.


- I hung out with cool people and kissed someone, albeit platonically, for New Year's and I am happy.

- My New Year's resolutions are, generally, eat more fruit and less candy and smile more, and I am happy.

- I'm watching Heroes, and it has plot holes and hot guys and good dialogue and easily slashable pairings including incest and I am happy.

- I went sledding and threw myself around in the snow, and my legs ache from being used as brakes and my feet ache from the horrible size and a half too small Chinese-footbinding-torture boots and I am happy.

- I have new clothes including bras, and I am apparently now a b cup and things fit well and look flattering and I am happy.

- Unrequited love is the best kind because it never ever has to change, and I am happy.


I suppose I've defeated my own argument by writing this, but personal irritant at this point is the nagging feeling that other people aren't this happy. I feel like I should share it with them, with you, in some probably ineffective fashion, and this is the best I can do. Be at peace.