my home is in empty spaces.

Part of my mother's charm is that she thinks she's indestructible and behaves accordingly.

Last Fri: "She has been warded. Come."

I am. Very very tired. And very very worried.

Wear clothes, wash clothes, hang up clothes to dry, iron clothes. Repeat.

[The ST Forum letter that used to be here has been deleted because I do not find it interesting enough to keep.]

I'm very tired of cruel guys, really. What is the point of being erudite, opinionated and vocal when these people can't even treat the people they know with kindness?

In other news am not sure why Moon is a Harsh Mistress perturbs me so.

"Won't press you. But a secret weapon must be kept secret. Mike, does anybody else suspect that you are alive?"

"Am I alive?" His voice held tragic loneliness.

- The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Robert Heinlein

Words escape me these days.

Well the day has passed and all seems fine. I try not to think about the next day, and the next day after that, when it comes to that; it'll arrive all by itself will-he nil-he.

Someone will be back soon, and the world seems sunnier though I'm a fool.

-----

I wonder if anyone ever outgrows the need for hug-buddies: people you coexist with whom you know don't like you and you don't like them much, not in that timeless death-defying way, whom you know you could drop like a shot and maybe they already have to you, but with whom you exchange verbal or sometimes physical hugs regularly. Living on the edge, in a funny way. Dancing your love away in a parody of human care.

Or maybe my mind has been pickled by the clubbing culture. Which one? Either/or, both?

I am waiting for a specific day in this month. Till then, nothing's probably going to happen. Well.

The joys of having a haircut and etc. Oooh.

I wanted to howl in wonder at being prehistoric moronic slime when I read this. The lad has the most beautifully fluid prose I've yet seen.