Couldn't sleep. Not for the fun reason.

Three hours in class. I'm now absolutely positive I don't know what I'm doing and will never get it right.

And I just spent the last two hours getting yelled at.

...Dude.

It's five o'clock somewhere.

I have a hot new friend with benefits.

Her name is Coquito.

Oh, angel. <3

Hah. Made you look.

I've been poking around the Webz.

If I am reading the charts of the scientists correctly, I am medicating myself with the ethanol. Just not for the panic. Slash cryptic.

I was right to lower the dosage. Murr.

My face is so flushed just now.

It does that instantaneously. Ice-white to flaming red. It's genetic, you know. Mmm.

Sleep, it beckons.

Anne Hathaway. Lick her...face?

Y/N/ABORT/REBOOT/RETRY?

Oh, boy, sleep! That's where I'm a Viking.

Also. Aladdin cartoons. Mmmm, Mirage. ^_^

Yes, another one.

At the intersection. Happened so fast, so close, that I thought we were hit, and kept thinking it, stupidly, even as I watched the victims reel to one side and grind to a stop in slow motion.

Fortunately, the son of a bitch that sideswiped them did so in the process of fleeing law enforcement, so some of them tore off after him while the others reported directly to the scene.

I didn't see much. They lived. They had to be cut from the car. Crushed leg, concussions, snapped collarbone.

There are knuckle imprints where I punched the window to get the fucking louse illiterate retards who swarmed my car and I couldn't breathe to scream, so I sat on the horn and battered the windows instead until they stepped the fuck back.

STEP, BITCH. GTFO. MY. FUCKING. CAR.

My stomach is on fire, but it's been like that for no particular reason I can divine since about three this afternoon anyway. *Shrug.*

I will now attempt to find my antacids and cuddle up to the vodka. Or just cuddle up to the vodka.

It occurs to me that the Ultimate Shield cannot be shattered by conventional means.

That utterly solves the problem of who goes in the middle.

I have had the worst day of the last six months and certainly, literally, of this year. Also, my bird is teh dead. WOE. ANGST. TORMENT. BOOZE.

Emo tears?

Just banged out my final analysis in music.

See, these last two, they were more choose-yer-own-adventure. So, last time, I picked "Elora Danan" by James Horner v. "Close Encounters: Suite" by John Williams, and this very final one...

Consisted of why Duke Ellington's "C-Jam Blues" pwnz Fallout Boy's "Dance, Dance". And also that I am not good at classical music. XD

I'm not. As with most things I'm not good at, I'm not good at it because I dislike it, and I dislike it because I'm not good at it. The two are related. I don't enjoy doing things that aren't easy for me.

I am very, very much a "Why go ice fishing when there are perfectly good mackerel swimming around in this here barrel?" sort of girl.

I still have not told her how hot she is. I may try that Thursday. It will be the last chance I ever get.

She might even slap me! Ooh. *Halo.*

Y'know...A white rapper stage-named Mayonnaise would be fucking hilarious.

And it's always the same, in his head, looped endlessly around itself. Simple and declarative and merciless.

I want I want I want.

"Maybe," he said. It hitched somewhere in the back of his throat, left grit on the roof of his mouth. "I'll beg that old hag for my life."

I want I want I want.

What the hell could it hurt?

(Greed/binding circles = OTP.)

Leena and Taven, sitting in a tree.

Aww, fuck it, I'm too tired. Stupid school =P