Nothing
nothing nothing. I know there is
something. I just don’t know what. Either that or I am just one huge massive
loser looking for something to blame my huge massive loser-dom on. The more I think about it, the more I realize
I have always been deadly lazy. Sort
of. Not in an obvious way. It’s hard to explain.
I
re-read Jekyll & Hyde and some of RLS’s other short stories. I also started re-reading The Turn of the
Screw. Gothic ghost stories and
Victorian weirdness. I think I might be
hysterical, just like a 19th century character. Or maybe I’m reading these books because this
house seems so Victorian, even if it’s actually Edwardian. From the outside it looks pretty
imposing. A nutty house. I’ll never be able to have many lights on or
the electric bill will be massive.
I think
I am tired. I don’t even want to listen
to myself anymore.
I’m
going off banana Weetabix. What does
this mean???
I keep
finding bits of journals I forgot I kept.
Dream
big, girl. Dream big.
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