And curiousity, too.

CURIOUSITY.

"I'd suggest telling her and hoping to god she doesn't kill you."

CURIOUSITY.

"It's nothing TOO horrible."

CURIOUSITY.

"...the only reason I even brought it up is that he'd asked me specifically what we had lying around earlier..."

CURIOUSITY.

"...pointed out that there is lemon juice and clove oil sitting up in the room..."

CURIOUSITY... and just a little bit of unnervedness. And a few other things, including the flickerings of a plan, early stages.

Headache, from switching, flipping, every damned voice I've GOT coming out and shrieking or talking or sobbing or otherwise making itself known, meanwhile my physical outside is staying fairly calm. Controlled enough to type. Sober enough to think.

*sudden amusement* Names forming. Old, half-forgotten, but... yeah. Names. I don't even have words to describe this interesting flicker of thought and text. Strange indeed.

Trying, among other things, to remember if I was going to call Caleb or if Caleb was going to call me, and if it was tonight or Sunday night. Strangeness.

"As funny as this is going to sound, given mine and his respective body types, is that he's a bit of a sledgehammer... whereas I prefer scalpel-type moves."

CURIOUSITY.

And confusion.

And an odd, odd echo of something I'd killed off a long time ago. LONG time ago.

"Snippy boy, out of my house!"

Strangeness, and amusement. And echoes. Take them away, take them away, and I don't even know for sure where they're coming from. Tempted - only tempted, mind you - to walk out and walk for a long while, calming, getting these thoughts out of my head.

ONLY tempted because I know that half the time, what I expect to help get something OUT locks it IN instead. Which no, that would not be helpful.

Music. Craving music. Going to find some of it.

"Look! There's no blood spurting, it's a GOOD day!"

Well, now. Let's see if we can get around this.

...I knew at a glance
there'd always be a chance for me
with someone I could live for
there's nowhere I would rather be
is your love strong enough
like a rock in the sea
am I asking too much
is your love strong enough...

Well, well, well.

...just one beat of your heart...

Too much of what I need on one paw, not enough of what I need on the other, and me in the middle wondering when it'll all stop. I still can't tear this voice out of my head and I STILL CAN'T FIGURE OUT WHERE THE FUCK IT COMES FROM! This is, for me, rather unusual.

But... yeah. Coping. Dealing. Something's gotta work out here, somehow. Tomorrow there are plans. First, there's (from 7:00 to 10:00 pm) a phone call to deal with. Oh, and in half an hour ~I~ have a phonecall to make. Anyway, after that, headed out to Gresham to snag Eamon and possibly Candice and bringing whoever from here wants to go, and headed to Rocky. Then, figuring out how to get back. Oh, dammit.

Might have to call Eamon and figure out what the hell to do about afters - if I can't get a ride back to Beaverton I can't go to Rocky since for obvious reasons, I won't be staying in Gresham.

Yes, they're obvious if you know what's going on. Otherwise, suffice to say, no, there's no place for me. Rather literally. *wry grin*

...don't tell me 'cause it hurts...

Damn it, SHUT UP already! I've got people talking OUTSIDE my head that I want to listen to, the ones INSIDE can damned well keep quiet. *paces internally - don't ask, it DOES work, it's just not as satisfying as pacing externally*

Heh. Oh, yeah. Now THIS urge I remember and understand, wanting to go walking through the parks, downtown, into the park on 39th, through the Imagination Station, along under the bridges, through Waterfront... take me, spin me, trail it all downward and let me follow...

Strange friends, but I like them. Listening to their conversation helps block out the things I am trying not to deal with. *sighs* No, not denial... just the knowledge that 'in the middle of a group of friends' is not the best time to sit around and concentrate on my mental state. I'd rather at least TRY to be sociable, as soon as I've got this rant out of my system.

*twitch-shudder*

Ehh. Another time. Another place. It'll all be ok.

It WILL.

Honest.

*chuckles softly, flickering out of existance*

I'll just leave this here, and hope that the thoughts that spurred it on stay here with it, lost in a tangle of electric impulses and text-on-screens.

...Johnny, angry Johnny, this is Jezebel in hell...

...I wanna kill you, I wanna blow you away...