Oh, the upstairs brain jello is percolating nicely. I keep on seeing people out the corners of my eyes, but really it is just junk. Actual junk or brain junk? I don't know. In these kind of situations I don't really think it makes much of a difference.
Speaking of people, I am now back in Wellington. I went home of r a couple of days to see the parents and eat food and do a bit of detox. I entered a story in a short story competition. I won't find out about that for four months.
Speaking of people, why won't people contact me? One person in particular. Of couse, this thinly veiled attempt for meaningful human contact will probably be seen through instantly by said person, provided she still looks in on this page every now and then. The question is whether this is a badly coded shout out or simply just a cathartic purging of what is bothering me. It might be both.
It's hard to see through the shadows in the jello.
And if THAT isn't simutaneously the strangest and most emo comment you've heard today then, well... I want to read that comment.
With the passion of a dying sun. Whatever that means.
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All things me are immortalized here. Immortalized in the traditional egyptian style: by removing the brian via the sinuses.
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