What it to do . . . .
I have made a decision. I have decided what I want to do with the rest of my life. I want to be a polar bear.
After all, what’s better than fresh salmon and the destruction of human civilization?
That is . . . if the rapture doesn’t happen before I can grow copious amounts of white fur all over my body.
Why do certain Christian extremists tend to forget what the Bible says about the r…
Incredibly smooth.
So the leg hurts. Blood is such a funny thing. Incredibly smooth sometimes, lumpy when it’s at its worse. A tad bit of pain is no problem but the occasional panic about the future might sometimes strike a flurry of confusion.
The minutes turn to hours turn to days . . .
I have been mysteriously absent lately. It’s not permanent. Things have just been stressful, and then I took a much needed break. I am still here.
Wakey wakey
I am sitting here, cold but sweating, feeling like a bird is going to hatch from my brain. I keep wondering if I will ever feel fully awake again.