I'm going insane.


No, stop that. That's impossible, look how much crap you're on. It's quiet. Inside. I'm not sure I like it, but I've gotten used to it. I'm not sure this is any better, but I've... gotten used to it. The tension and paranoia is gone, as is the rumination. But so is everything else and I'm frightened. To be honest I'm barely functioning, mentally and motivationally. I feel mobile but comatose. I can't think straight. Or I've been thinking too straight. Either way, the change is noticeable.

Well.

I feel content. But I don't feel like taking measures to extend it. I can't put any effort into anything. I've stopped short of my duties. My priorities are very, very jacked up. And it's difficult to remember that I have any, or ever did. I'm tired. I really am. I don't want to do this anymore. I never did and it explains my extreme reluctance to do anything.


I would prefer the opposite of my current state. Physically comatose but mentally EXPLODING WITH AWESOME! God that'd be the shit.






"You're extreme."

Indeed.

TV Tropes Will Ruin Your Life.


"Hmm I think I'll go to bed early today, hoho, it's only 1.45am."

Later...

"Damn that took a long time. Oh it's 4."


Maaaaaaaaannnnnnnn.......

I... I've been reading so much and it just won't end! Why won't it end?! WHY?!! ......................END!!! And I'm not even anywhere near finishing either (eye-thur). Sob.. sooob....

Reading TV tropes: Ultra. Productive. My favorites thus far are the Disney Acid Sequence, Thirty Xanatos Pileup, Magnificent Bastard (two words: Big Boss \^o^/) and Deadpan Snarker. And You Fail Sex Ed Forever.

Dear God now I'm reading Metal Gear Solid webcomics featuring the last days of Foxhound. NERD!! I was at Marukai with J, bespectacled with my new spectacles, when he shoved me hard and shouted "NERD!!" and scurried away. I cried and found myself next to the Unwanted Vegetables shelf where they place and relabel all the nearly-expired produce with dirt cheap prices. Oh the humanity. But wait: mushrooms for 69 cents?? Count me in. And a squashy plastic packet of green bell peppers for 55 cents. Oh. Shiet. Well I got excited.





Um I haven't slept yet and my forehead pains me. Now apply a chaste kiss to relieve said forehead-pain. Assuming you are tall enough BWAHAHAHA.... I really need to get over my height complex: it is, how you say, "not that crazy." What is crazy is the disproportionate amount of short people I hang out with.





Is my hair long yet? Hurry up oh my gawd! Come on, man, I wanna be a mermaid--hurry uppp! Tch it doesn't even cover my nipples that's pathetic. HOW can I be a mermaid when I can't even cover up the ONLY "inappropriate" body part(s) a mermaid has?? Not covering them is not a solution, I am far to demure and modest and reasonable for that. Heh heh... And I would rather not wear one of those seashell-coconut-seaweed-crab body-floating sea refuse-bras. I.. I hate them D:

There, there, ViVi... No frowny faces here--OH MY GOD GO TO SLEEP YOU SUCK BALLS



I want a cookie.. so.. badly...

My favorite kind of humor is sarcasm.

This is why every time Kyouji would "shoot" me, I would stumble half-drunkenly in the street groaning in agony, making all sorts of noise, clutching my sternum/gunshot-wound and peering up at him from my prostrate position on the ground and whisper, "Kyouji... doushite?" Eyes brimming with tears, I collapsed limply and uttered a very convincing death-rattle.

Dude I barely knew the guy and we had a huuge language barrier. Also I had to apologize for making him puke at the izakaya the other night. Also, every time I saw him and Albert and Chad and Jin, I would use their appearance as an excuse to wander into every conbini we passed and purchase a chu-hi (shochu-highball) JUST BECAUSE I COULD and drink it in the street JUST BECAUSE I COULD. So needless to say, I was pretty much trashed all the time.

Thus, our favorite thing to do was play "shoot and die." All melodrama.


I'm pretty sure I made his day.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing." Everything.






I enjoy heirloom tomatoes. And white peaches. And persimmons and mangosteen and dragonfruit and dates and papaya and watermelon and bananas and grapes and sugar snap peas and carrots and gala apples and limes and white nectarines and enoki mushrooms.





I feel strangely.. stagnant. Empty. Violently unhappy, but very able to not acknowledge it anymore: WHEW.

I've been sleeping a lot, and on a ridiculous schedule--something like 12 hours, awakening only when my west-facing window starts to heat up uncomfortably when the sun sets and projects directly into my room, rendering the wooden blinds stupidly useless. I awake on my own, not jarred awake anymore, and soaked in sweat. Orange-colored room. Fuck California. Half-lucid dreaming fantastically, but the dreams are more like unwarranted, modified and combined re-writes of memories.

An old paramour and an old friend caught together, completely unrelated in reality, but in my dream I screamed at him to get out of my (grandparent's) house. I have never held any hostility towards him or her. I don't know where it came from. Maybe, because betrayal is a familiar thing for me, it's just projection onto something raaandom. Or I keep having dreams about guys with dark features--now that I think about it, yes my dark-featured old friends and old flames have been very prominent in my dreams as of late. Hmm.. why so coloring-oriented, ViVi..

A common theme for me is "why didn't you want me." Usually I answer myself: "Uh. Whatever." And go play.


Playing is my favorite activity.







I miss... oh fuck it.







"Terra! What did you do to her?!"

"Nothing she didn't want me to...

:DDDDDD

I am looking forward to Sunday. Metalocalypse AND Venture Bros premiere? Oh shiet. That is a special special day, indeed. That calls for some delicious enjoyable product.

Oh. The things I enjoy. At once simple, yet wholeheartedly batty.





I had yet another very ridiculous Halloween with Chris "Trippy" Tripp. I think we were driving for something like fifty years. It was the first time I had seen that much sun in weeks. We parked somewhere in PV-Pedro and gazed blearily at the view.

We felt fantastically Californian, smoking furiously as we beat traffic on the 405. Then we got lost in downtown and flipped like 50 bitches and visited Loho and one of the Mendoza brothers, not in that particular order.

Then we discussed our old bad habits and shit started interacting weird again and I had to pull over and let him drive because he thought I was rolling when in fact I merely thought my all of my bones were tingling violently from the inside.



This guy is truely my mommy. If I ever have any questions about DANGER, he can speak from experience. Though not from as much experience as most people think. For some reason it's been flying around that he's some kind of ridiculous heroin addict, which is bullshit.


I will defend his honor with my flaming sword. Though I am not the best person to be associated with honor. Or virtue. Or hygiene.


Puzzled smile.



Last Halloween was... well... I lived.