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136: 870 words. 1075 total. Done. Long even section.
Entertained myself during the ballgame by periodically buzzing![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teinedreugan's pager with updates, so that he could tell keshwyn. This served its purpose of also amusing them.
Enough people have mentioned Narnia recently that I'm going to have to start taking it as a sign. (papersky wrote a poem, lizw made a comment in a previous entry, humanx said something about book order, and a couple other things that have slipped my mind.) I've been meaning to reread them for a while; that may occupy me for a day or two presuming I remember this sometime other than three in the morning.
This song has been stuck in my head as a result of recent cogitations. "Gonna get into it, down where it's tangled and dark. . ." Very odd dreams that I don't remember terribly well, but which feel related.
I have deep thoughts of a variety of sorts, none of which will get written down while I'm stoned off my ass on antihistamines. All I get when I try to verbalise them is the rather satisfying sensation of making green mud go *squit* out between my fingers from trying to squeeze them into language; this isn't particularly conducive to communication, though the results make a fascinating cognitive Rorschach.
Entertained myself during the ballgame by periodically buzzing
teinedreugan's pager with updates, so that he could tell keshwyn. This served its purpose of also amusing them.Enough people have mentioned Narnia recently that I'm going to have to start taking it as a sign. (
papersky wrote a poem, lizw made a comment in a previous entry, humanx said something about book order, and a couple other things that have slipped my mind.) I've been meaning to reread them for a while; that may occupy me for a day or two presuming I remember this sometime other than three in the morning.This song has been stuck in my head as a result of recent cogitations. "Gonna get into it, down where it's tangled and dark. . ." Very odd dreams that I don't remember terribly well, but which feel related.
I have deep thoughts of a variety of sorts, none of which will get written down while I'm stoned off my ass on antihistamines. All I get when I try to verbalise them is the rather satisfying sensation of making green mud go *squit* out between my fingers from trying to squeeze them into language; this isn't particularly conducive to communication, though the results make a fascinating cognitive Rorschach.
