Nguh.

Section 35: 1062 words. I could probably finish it tonight but I'm so very very very. Amused by characters. ("What would I do without you?" "Make a less impressive entrance?") ("Are they partners?" "I suppose we'll see if one ever takes a fancy to a girl, and they ask if she'll bed them both.")

I was going to write about the meditation from the PA ritual tonight, but whatever I was going to say fell out of my head again. Had an interesting talk with Wab Sandie after ritual about writing and multiplicity and stuff; sent her a URL to the shapeshifting meditation writeup I did gods, over two years ago for marykaykare in rasseff. (Oh, goodness, that was a Kristopher thread too. He did inspire me to some interesting writing.) Interesting to talk to someone whose opening question is something to the effect of, "So. . . are your others walk-ins, past lives, or something else?" Explaining basic concept: clearly not necessary.

Fed the snakie without having to lock Arthur in the bathroom. It's all good.

. . . and now I'm discussing Federal allocation of highway funds and states-rights with lstone, annwyd, and oneironaut. With occasional diversions into D&D.

. . . ugh. Just reminded that I bruised my navel. (Don't ask me how I managed that. I don't know.) Belly laughs: ow.

One of these days . . .

. . . I'll give up on trying to make peace.


I'm no fucking good at it anyway.


It all goes to pieces in my hands. Too delicate for these hands. Too fragile.

gtstisi is too fucking red.