the Ether Bunny (ninjalicious) wrote,
the Ether Bunny
ninjalicious

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the city is restless, it's ready to pounce

I managed to simultaneously brandish a chair, crack a whip, and write an email. Well, not quite. No whip. I brandished with one hand and typed with the other, thougj. (And it shows..) I'm really unsettled with "this situation" with Sensitive Artist. This has to be some horrible phase in our friendship, right? I just can't get past some of the comments that come out, though. "maybe nothing better than my offer to hang out at a diner was available to you." Fucking fuck! When I think back to the hours upon hours we'd stay up just talking about everything.. Hell, more often than not when we went out in a group, the two of us would end up going to another diner when everyone else had to go to bed. Drinking coffee and talking until birds hailed the sunrise. I want this nonsense to never have happened. Not because I'd rather not deal with it, but rather because I doubt it can be dealt with. And I still feel like my words arrived before I did. I'm trying to rewrite myself, rework the way (and what) I write in this. I don't do these ridiculous duets nearly as well as expected.

I think the fact that I can go from feeling really good to such desolation makes me feel stabbier than anything else. I feel the pain, and in an effort to repel it, erupt in knives.


I think it's possible the desire to curl up in a ball on my bed, twisted in blankets and cradled in pillows, is the best feeling in the world. The feeling like it's the most natural course of action might be better than the act itself.
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