From Twitter 04-02-2011

• 19:42:40: I really should just remember to shut up and not be such a rage!face so often. I'm too hard on people
  
• 19:44:58: Also, I've just eaten dinner and am still hungry. Maybe I should have had more than pasta....
  
• 19:45:35: Maybe I'll just go to Sainsbury and pick up som extra noms? I love me some sugary noms
  
• 22:02:54: Looking forward to all the bank/public holidays this month! Especially Easter Monday which is my 2 year anniversary with Dave :)
  

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And never come back if you find another galaxy with more room to fly

I went to bed early tonight. The first time in maybe 3 weeks I have been in bed before 2am, (10.30pm actually) only to be woken up at 1am by take-away arriving for my housemate because they rang my doorbell. It is now 3:54 and I still can't get back to sleep. I am furious, and angry, and now everything else about our other two housemates that really fucks me off is buzzing around my head. I'm really resentful, and pissed off and it's probably the lack of sleep and the stress of the last week building.

I just feel like a bitch, all prickly edges and short temper. It's probably because something huge is due to happen on Wednesday but it's not a certain thing yet. And til yesterday I was okay, just going to let things happen because that's the way the world works. But now I feel all crazy and nervous and I want it really badly.

So I'm sitting in bed now, head spinning with the thought of it and dying to smoke. I don't smoke normally, only in the times of real stress, but now feels like one of those times.

I also really want to rehaul icons again, except I lost fucktons of the ones I really liked in the Grand Robbery of 2010. An Inception one is definitely needed though.

National poetry month has begun. Have a gorgeous one by Richard Siken, I love his stuff so much, especially since musesfool posted some of his stuff about 2 years back. First stanza before the rest being placed under a cut.

A Primer for the Small Weird Loves

1.
The blond boy in the red trunks is holding your head underwater
because he is trying to kill you,
and you deserve it, you do, and you know this,
and you are ready to die in this swimming pool
because you wanted to touch his hands and lips and this means
your life is over anyway.
You're in the eighth grade. You know these things.
You know how to ride a dirt bike, and you know how to do
long division,
and you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless
he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you
didn't do,
because you are weak and hollow and it doesn't matter anymore.

( continued below the cut )

I really want "Inception" fic based on this poem. My heart