Oh, but it's good to be Out for a while, even if I know it won't last long, even if I know the chaos that follows after will be so very unpleasant to deal with... it's good to be me, as the song goes, and I am enjoying it a thousand times over. Although it's rather amusing too, being mistaken for someone I'm not; no one is going to understand this entry save the Scott Collective, Torian (maybe) and Caleb, if he ever reads it. I think Kadin might actually miss the references, at this point... I need to get my claws on that one again soon, teach him to remember.

...I think I'll get out of here...

Music is driving me onward... but this too should come as no surprise, it's not often that music fails to move me. Sleep deprivation, alcohol, and hungers that I can't quite feed, itches I can't quite scratch, it's all sitting here in the center of my head making me want to DO something... or someone... have I mentioned that I need to get laid?

I do.

Desperately.

Definitely.

"Cherokee Nation" is now playing; I've never quite understood why I love this song but I do, I so very do, it makes me feel like screaming and at the same time makes me... content.

Then again, I'm often content when I'm screaming.

Something else very few people 'get' about me... the drama, the arguements, the ridiculous fights and the pointless violence? I LIKE it. I ENJOY it. It satisfies a need that frankly, normal behavior and normal conversation just doesn't touch. So don't ask me why I do such foolish things, don't tell me that action A or statement B will just lead to more of the same messes I find myself in so often already... that's the IDEA, you fraggin' idiot.

Sorry. Brief moment of wish-I-had-an-uzi. It happens. It's morning.

"Beat Me" is blasting now and I want one of my boys online - the closest things around are a newcomer who isn't collared, isn't owned, isn't trained... and an old friend who is occasionally submissive but not in the ways I need. Ergo - I want my boys.

Well, technically, not MY boys, but it's not like most of the world would acknowledge, accept, or understand the difference. Hell, I'm not even sure they understand the difference, some days. Rahani is furious 'cause I uncollared one of hers. *snickers*

He asked for it, offered himself to me, and he's one who really should know better...

you try to be cool with little to say...

...I want to be the prayer
answered when you meet me...

Alyssa. Gerath. Sieia-To. Does it matter what name I'm wearing? Does it matter what half-mask hides my face, failing to disguise the voice, the actions, the dream-maddened movements that really should be a perfect give-away but that so often fail to set off alarm bells? Does it matter that the little darlings seem so determined to throw themselves at me?

Does anything matter?

...the shot in the arm across the room like a four-alarm some kind of danger i look that way you try to be cool with nothing to say...

Yeah.

...the pain, the bat, and the blood when you beat me...

Oddly enough, I'm the only one in here today who remembers how it feels to be beaten. That's just not right.