New clothes and poetry and rambling

I want to cry but it feels as though the tears are trapped somewhere that is not my eyes, under my collarbone maybe. I wonder if I smashed my collarbone I'd be able to cry? Ah well.
On a more upbeat note, coming back to London tomorrow, so should be there for NYE rave. Epic Win aunt has bought me a rich burgundy wizard's robe. It's a tad too big but that doesn't really matter. The baggieness of the sleeves just makes it exta-sorcerous and while it's not so cool at the waist I also now have a gold shawl to wrap around it. I look like something out of the Arabian Nights. I just need curly shoes.
Hmm, waset got me an arabian dagger from Egypt. Tucked into the shawl it would be beyond awesome. I'll also need to bring back my wizard's staff from my mother's house. Hell bells, I practically am a sorcerer, complete with hopelessly unreliable invisible servants consisting of the dead and never-to-be-born (yes, I'm talking about you lot).
Heh.

And a final little thank you to someone who has been very nice and helpful recently but needs to leave me the fuck alone because he is now giving me a headache.

 

( Really problematic poem about this Christmas and the fact that I had to rely on Herr Doktor to get through it )

Thank you. Really. Now go away and kill people somewhere else. I can't write you.
That place was so poisonous Mengele was the only character who could stand it, all the others are still woozy. Gods. No wonder I ended up with Kuthgar. Gods. For all the general fail of living alone at least it make for good character cultivation. Christmas was like dunking them all in a vat a sulphuric acid. Prussic acid. Whatever.
Anyway. Hopefully the new year will be better. Better be better. Dear Gods, I swear.

 

New clothes and poetry and rambling

I want to cry but it feels as though the tears are trapped somewhere that is not my eyes, under my collarbone maybe. I wonder if I smashed my collarbone I'd be able to cry? Ah well.
On a more upbeat note, coming back to London tomorrow, so should be there for NYE rave. Epic Win aunt has bought me a rich burgundy wizard's robe. It's a tad too big but that doesn't really matter. The baggieness of the sleeves just makes it exta-sorcerous and while it's not so cool at the waist I also now have a gold shawl to wrap around it. I look like something out of the Arabian Nights. I just need curly shoes.
Hmm, waset got me an arabian dagger from Egypt. Tucked into the shawl it would be beyond awesome. I'll also need to bring back my wizard's staff from my mother's house. Hell bells, I practically am a sorcerer, complete with hopelessly unreliable invisible servants consisting of the dead and never-to-be-born (yes, I'm talking about you lot).
Heh.

And a final little thank you to someone who has been very nice and helpful recently but needs to leave me the fuck alone because he is now giving me a headache.

 

( Really problematic poem about this Christmas and the fact that I had to rely on Herr Doktor to get through it )

Thank you. Really. Now go away and kill people somewhere else. I can't write you.
That place was so poisonous Mengele was the only character who could stand it, all the others are still woozy. Gods. No wonder I ended up with Kuthgar. Gods. For all the general fail of living alone at least it make for good character cultivation. Christmas was like dunking them all in a vat a sulphuric acid. Prussic acid. Whatever.
Anyway. Hopefully the new year will be better. Better be better. Dear Gods, I swear.