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kbkAm home.
Really really really ought to take the required small effort to move out of this room - reach behind couch and unplug and go - because there are other people here and I am really immensely horrendously stressed by being in the same room... also they are watching crap.
Was over at nostalgia's house. We went to Glasgow first. I bought a book - 101 Poems Against War. I stayed at her house. This afternoon we went to see PoTC. She saw the gay. She can now read the fic.
I have moved. I was going to move to the small room, but pere is in there, then I thought "well, hey, dining room," in which the lights are currently missing, and now the boy has stomped past me, telling me in the process that I can set it up in my room if I want, which I don't and left the fucking door open so I might as well have stayed in the fucking lounge which has just become empty of all fucking people!
Did I mention the stress of people? Did I mention I'm currently running a little low on drugs, a little low on actual food, and a little high on sugar caffeine and fucking junk? Can I just say that I hate this fucking house and want to get the fuck out and my feet fucking hurt?!
Sorry. But. And the fucking clock is chiming again!!
I really really really need to get back to uni.
Feet hurt is my fault for walking seven miles in damp socks, but still, hurt. Going back into lounge.
Back in. Yawn. Hurt. Hate. Grr.
I do want to go back to uni. But I have to revise before then, and it's getting uncomfortably close, and of course there's all the shit where my revision materials are in the fucking garage along with most of my possessions, including my booze which would be most welcome at this point in time because it might fucking well calm me down a little.
I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Here.
I. Don't. Want. To. Hear. Your. Fucking. Voices. "Family".
There was this fic I read, and I could probably find the link easily enough, though it would be a whole lot easier on my computer, which was a Highlander fic. In which, when Immortals became powerful enough, the "interference" of their Quickenings was enough to force them into fighting. So Methos and Duncan had to fuck to get round this, but that's not the point. The point is, I feel like that's what's happening to me around my family, it's just that it's only me that can feel it and they're just noticing the effect on me. Which is really fucking annoying.
Anyway. Sorry about that. Wish I could write now, but it ain't gonna happen when I'm so fuckin' itchy.
Really really really ought to take the required small effort to move out of this room - reach behind couch and unplug and go - because there are other people here and I am really immensely horrendously stressed by being in the same room... also they are watching crap.
Was over at nostalgia's house. We went to Glasgow first. I bought a book - 101 Poems Against War. I stayed at her house. This afternoon we went to see PoTC. She saw the gay. She can now read the fic.
I have moved. I was going to move to the small room, but pere is in there, then I thought "well, hey, dining room," in which the lights are currently missing, and now the boy has stomped past me, telling me in the process that I can set it up in my room if I want, which I don't and left the fucking door open so I might as well have stayed in the fucking lounge which has just become empty of all fucking people!
Did I mention the stress of people? Did I mention I'm currently running a little low on drugs, a little low on actual food, and a little high on sugar caffeine and fucking junk? Can I just say that I hate this fucking house and want to get the fuck out and my feet fucking hurt?!
Sorry. But. And the fucking clock is chiming again!!
I really really really need to get back to uni.
Feet hurt is my fault for walking seven miles in damp socks, but still, hurt. Going back into lounge.
Back in. Yawn. Hurt. Hate. Grr.
I do want to go back to uni. But I have to revise before then, and it's getting uncomfortably close, and of course there's all the shit where my revision materials are in the fucking garage along with most of my possessions, including my booze which would be most welcome at this point in time because it might fucking well calm me down a little.
I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Here.
I. Don't. Want. To. Hear. Your. Fucking. Voices. "Family".
There was this fic I read, and I could probably find the link easily enough, though it would be a whole lot easier on my computer, which was a Highlander fic. In which, when Immortals became powerful enough, the "interference" of their Quickenings was enough to force them into fighting. So Methos and Duncan had to fuck to get round this, but that's not the point. The point is, I feel like that's what's happening to me around my family, it's just that it's only me that can feel it and they're just noticing the effect on me. Which is really fucking annoying.
Anyway. Sorry about that. Wish I could write now, but it ain't gonna happen when I'm so fuckin' itchy.
