sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Looking for input:

1) Is there a good non-gendered, or gender-inclusive word that could provide about the same connotations as "gentleman"?

(A friend asked this on Flife, and it occurs to me that this would be a useful word for my life. Neither he nor I thinks "gentleperson" satisfies.)

2) So, a boy-shaped friend of mine asked recently if I had any suggestions for how to indicate "I am not a bad guy" when walking late at night near (specifically, but it could certainly be generalized) single1 women. His biggest concern was what happens when he is walking at about the same pace as a woman, and behind her, such as to seem like he is following her (rather than both going in the same direction).

(Obviously walking the opposite direction from someone is easy to indicate "safe" --make eye contact, smile, maybe say "good evening" and keep walking.)

Oh, damn. Only now it occurs to me that I could've suggested he switch sides of the street, assuming the area is safe to do so. I mean...there's still the following problem, but especially if the woman is aware of you switching sides, there's an indication of giving space.

More suggestions?


1: As in, "only one" not "unpartnered"
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
So, I find myself dissatisfied with certain aspects of my vocabulary.

Some of these are because they're harmful language. I'm trying to avoid using bitch, cunt, lame, crazy, insane, gyp, and more recently, idiot and moron. (and I never did get much into retarded or gay). If nothing else, I see it as a challenge --I could use a word that I've been told is harmful, or I could be clever and come up with something much more interesting. And really now, is it anywhere near as satisfying to call someone a "lame ass-faggot1 bitch" as to casually inform them that they are "a thrice-cursed stain on the dirty socks of society"? Gets exactly the point across without using any marginalized groups as insults. Brilliant!

Starting sentences with conjunctions is one of my cardinal writing sins, and I've been working to fix that. Not well, unfortunately, but I've at least started noticing when I do it, and sometimes I even rewrite the relevant sentence.

While I highly endorse using the word fuck often and liberally (it just has such a great sound to it), even I must admit that it shows an occasional lack of creativity. Even more problematically is the fact that...well...I don't think sex should be seen as a swear! It's much too fun for that, which makes me loathe to associate a good act with whatever fuckery is going on today.

Of course, I've already mentioned in this journal that I way overuse the modifying adverb "really really", sometimes with added symbology, such as *asterisks* or _underscores_. This does such a disservice to all the other wonderful modifiers in the world, like extremely, emphatically, excellently (not to mention the ones that start with the other 25 letters of the alphabet!), and, like my overuse of my favourite expletive, shows a lack of creativity that I simply refuse to associate myself with.

It's not a lack of creativity I fear, but lack of sophistication when I like, way slip into, the totally valley ways of talkin', or start droppin' letters like a proper South'ner. It wouldn't be such a flaw if I could keep it to my actual speech, but I think like I talk like I write, and all three can be affected by my most recent media inputs. So watching TrueBlood or the Walking Dead is all well and good, but man, does it ever make me start to drawl.

Combining my first and third points, you get my discomfort with any number of religious words --God, Jesus, Christ, and damn. "For cat's sake" is a phrase I stumbled across in a book recently, and I've taken an immediate liking to the wording, meaning I may very well start using it to fill the gap left by my discomfort from asking someone else's god to damn things. Cursed serves nicely as a substitute for damn as well, but I've been a blasphemous little thing for a very long time, so fixing my ways may take some time indeed.

(Additionally, I do tend to use Athe or Mama when I need to swear by a god --better to use my own than anyone else's, if mine have trouble with my irreverence, they can take it up with me, and I can make proper reparations.)

Going off the theme of adding things to my vocabulary rather than subtracting them, you come across my insistence that I should be using the dictionary built into Vera *far* more often than I actually do. I've been trying to make a point of it lately --when my mind wishes to use a word that I am not quite sure of the proper definition, too often I'll substitute something safer, and generally less interesting. Having a one click dictionary absolutely saves me from the conundrum, and I've been doing my best to, when confronted with a word I am only seventy percent sure I'm using correctly or so, I take the time to look it up. More often than not, I was right.

I was recently told, in no uncertain terms, that I was no longer to use the sentence structure of "I am" followed by a negative. I do things, or occasionally do not do things, and sometimes those are bad things and make me feel bad, but they don't make me a bad person. This is an amazingly tricky habit to unlearn --I've spent a long time reinforcing the fact that while I am a pretty awesome person, I also tend to behave in the fashion of an absolute buffoon, most especially where my academic career is concerned.

I don't expect I'm doing a particularly good job of the challenge, but the right-thinking parts of myself (which have too-little opportunity to speak up sometimes) consider it to absolutely be a thing for me to do. Words have power after all, and if I can steer my mind away from the concept that I am, inherently, a failure and towards the thought that perhaps sometimes I merely fail, I'm sure I'll wind up being happier all around.

That's about all I can think of off the top of my head, at least for this particular instant of my life. Because my core idea of myself is so tied into the concept of being a writer, and because I operate so deeply in words, the language and vocabulary I choose or do not choose to use is never all that far from my mind.

Adieu, mein leibchen.


1: xkcd stopped me using adjectve-ass noun forever. I still use it sometimes, but I do so consciously, and always in the adjective ass-noun form.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Also, what is it with all these fics with Sheldon and chess? I mean, not that I object, as it is very him, but goddamnit, I suck at chess and will therefore never manage to adequately seduce the man.

...yes, yes, I'm going to bed.


Postscript 1: Yes, this is why I have a twitter, to save you lot from posts like these. Oh wait. Apologies.

Postscript 2: Tonight will be an interesting test of what direction people read their livejournals in. Does this entry make any sense whatsoever? Have you read those that come before?

I myself read chronologically. Like you should.

Postscript 3: Wevs, you know? It's my journal and I'll post if I want to.

Unrelatedly, "wevs" is pretty much my word for the month.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
So, the other day I was going through old 750words posts and stuff, and pulled out a bunch of things that I thought were worth saying in public.

A lot of them are kinda depressing, because I think words often flow better when they've got a pinch of melancholic to them. But here. It's like a sundries post, only just with things I've written.

Author's notes are in italics

There is a boy.
Who likes me and other girls.
And likes me more _anyways_.


Being loved by someone sweet and devoted to me is nice, and I love them all for it.

But being loved by someone sweet and devoted to me over other girls is just a whole different realm of exciting. And of course, we don't actually have much of a romantic relationship at all, but still.

I've never been the girl who wins before. It's the scariest damn thing, but gods help me, I like it.

Yeah, this was really startling when I realized it for the first time, and I still kinda refuse to believe it's true.

And of course, there is no "winning" in poly (except maybe making everyone involved in your relationship scheme happy) but there's also not quite a word to express what I mean here. I am perfectly content to be right where I am in all the relationships I'm in --hence the reason I'm in them-- but sometimes it's nice to realize all a sudden that someone thinks you're special enough to set aside a girl who is clearly hotter and more interesting than you are.

...then it just hurts more and I am tired of it hurting _more_. Things aren't supposed to keep hurting more. Shouldn't pain level out at some point?

Yes. Yes it should. I think this particular pain might've gotten close to level for now, the problem is just that level is a lot of pain, and so I can only lock it away for so long before it rages at me again.

What, no, I'm not emo, nope.

I hate because the only other option is to hurt, and this hurts so bad I'm not sure I can deal.

I don't remember who or what I hate here. Very plausibly myself.

And really, if you don't have all your words sorted out beforehand, if you don't know what you're going to say, what's the point of trying to say it anyways? I'm a fucking writer, if I can't put a problem into words, there's probably not much of a problem in the first place.

...and even if I can put it into words, I'm a cynic, and a victim and extremely clever. If I can put it into words, I can figure out arguments against the problem until it no longer exists, or boils down to just me being a tiny idiot. And no one but me can fix me being a tiny idiot.

And this is why I am not very good at speaking up when there is something wrong in one of my relationships. If I can sort it out on my own, because I was just being silly, why would I bother my partner?

Yeah, I'm _really_ not good at this relationship thing. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.

And when the going gets tough, I am presented with one option -to overwhelm myself in sensation.

Tense certain muscles past any reasonable point, shut my eyes tight, or stare meditatively into something lovely, or run and run until the body runs out of energy, or most used of all, drown my internal monologue in music.

I drown myself in music all the time. Hell, let's be honest here, it's one of the most useful coping mechanisms I currently have in order to fight bottom. I get sad, I pump on the Next to Normal, or s00j, or Vienna, or whatever else I've got, and I make the sad, if not go away, at least have to struggle past the noise to actually get to me.

It's a really really nice coping mechanism. It also means that I'm going to be deaf before I turn thirty.

My made up mind was not put here for you to try and change. Cheers, s00j.

But the best part of today is that I've hit upon two separate things that make me incredibly _incredibly_ happy.

The first is pretty logical. Giving Blood. Me donating a pint makes me both incredibly pleased with myself, and punchy as fuck due to the light-headedness. I am okay with this state of affairs, especially if it makes me unlazy enough to go give blood more often than the twice yearly I've been doing.

Speaking of which, I'm almost eligible again. Anyone want to go to the red cross with me this weekend?

I am amused by Hyde, protecting me from the ghosts that lurk for hours after I read anything creepytastic, no matter how far I remove myself from the immediate.

"Don't worry dear. There is nothing in this house as scary as I. Except maybe for you."

Oh, excellently played you delightful fucker.

y'all do know who Hyde is, right? He lives in my head and gives me not terribly good advice. Because I am, say it with me folks, a little bit broken.

I am, for the first time in my life, willingly sitting out while actively at dance.

I just...don't feel like dancing. I'd say maybe I'm tired, except I know I've danced in physically worse shape before --and that's not even counting on the sprained ankle!

No, I just can't cope with the idea of doing more dances tonight. There is apparently a point where the pain of dance overtakes the pleasure --I know, I didn't realize it could happen either. But there is, and I've finally hit it.


I don't want to sob in the middle of the dance hall, in the middle of a waltz. I don't know that I could explain why if I did. I do know that I don't ever want to have to. I hate crying, I hate the pain, and I hate people giving me sympathy, because I hate being weak enough to need other people.

All I want is to just be strong enough to survive independent of outside forces. Maybe that means I need to break up with everyone, not have outside forces that affect me any longer. GO LIVE IN A CAVE AND BE A HERMIT, SOR!

I am such a whiny cunt1. It is beyond me why anyone at all gives a damn about me in the first place. :P

Cunt explained below. No, you don't get an explanation for the rest of it. But this is a pretty common mental path --emo -> yelling at myself for being emo.

Dog and I get along well, and that's really really important.

I need to remember that having friends who I can bitch about the odd parts of my life to are a really crucial thing for me to have. I also need to remember how much I appreciate having friends who will slap me down when I am using inappropriate language, or otherwise being an elitist jerk. (see also, Jesse glaring at me when I used bitch. I want to give him a cookie and a hug for that alone)

Dog is awesome. I really want to hang out with him more this fall, when I'm back in Boston.

(I don't know how to feel about the fact that I'm using Amanda right now for a little extra bit of stability. She is a fucking idiot. But her art, when it's good...

It's good. It's the best. Right now I am angry and hurt and sad and scared. And that is the perfect mood for listening to Amanda, because she will reinforce the parts that are okay to be reinforced, and she will eradicate the parts that need to just Go Away.

I use music to blank myself out. She's really really good at that.

Hate the artist, love the art? I don't even know anymore. It is so hard to be a good person sometimes.)

Can we have an Amandadebate-free space in my journal comments? I'd appreciate that.

Yes, this is all just because I handle arguments extremely poorly, and I can't freak out and walk four miles in this state.

I find it telling that I've had two boys in a row who were just for sex. And I'm in love with both of them.

Sex is a bit of a misnomer --I have what the Shakers2 call an "unsullied cunt", which is apparently terribly valuable and should be protected at all costs. But boys who I am into with the kissing and such, and not the romantics. And...yeah. My traitor of a heart has started to sigh wistfully, and doodle our initials together on my school notebooks.

The emotion involved, this is more than sex. Sex is just endorphins and dopamine. Waltzing

So, I almost just wrote "fucking _this_" as my author's note. Which means that I just tried to emphatically agree with something I wrote. So, uh, yeah, I'm a bit of an idiot.


1: This is not a word that I should use. It's a slur, flat and simple, and I should not use it to refer to myself (which I do, occasionally), or any other woman (which I don't.)

That being said, there are a lot of things I call myself that no one else may touch, and yes, cunt is one of them. There's a hardness to it, all edges and corners and sharp, and in some moods, the words I feel that fit best are the words that fit this hardness.

2: See also, Shakesville here, and the specific origin of the term unsullied cunt here.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
This is another one of them sundries/link posts, because I am far too angry to report about Daycamp today. Which means I probably will at some point, but I want to get this done first --not the least so I can clean up this browser window of all the loose tabs, and restart Vera, which she would probably appreciate.

So, some stuff that has caught my eye lately!

*An account of a visit to the nursing home where a Stonewall veteran currently resides, during Pride. It's beautiful, and sad, and while it hurts to think that we cast aside those who set the path, it's nice to realize that the queer1 community HAS been making progress, even when some days it feels we haven't.

*Drowning does not look like moviedrowning. Dot linked to it on Twitter, and I was entranced, partially because of the whole neck-choking-not breathing neuroses I have, and the fact that they've been a lot on my mind lately, trying to sort out what the specific problems are, and how they work.

*A pretty sweet pdf of how to survive your first con. It's HP cons specific, but most of the information is really useful. I would recommend it if you're for some reason not much of a congoer but would like to be.

*Always check the sources cited --something on was snarking that smarter people have less sex, and linked this study to prove it. I went "But... the venn diagram of "people I know have lots of sex" and "people I know who are smart" actually has a fair bit of overlap.

At any rate, I clicked through, and found that it's the abstract to what sounds like a fascinating study about the fact that intelligent adolescents have less sex. Like...people in the twelve-eighteen year old range. Gonna be honest here, I am smarter than you2, enjoy sex more than you3, and when I was 12-18? Shit man, I was about as uninterested in sex as a baby is in politics.

*SMBC illustrates why you should not date a mathematician. I more or less died of lawl. This is one of the comics that I will print out and put in my classroom when I am a teacher, along with half the archive of xkcd4.

*Sometimes shirt.woot is meh. Sometimes shirt.woot is weird. Sometimes shirt.woot is forgettable.

And sometimes shirt.woot is so awesome that it sells out of the ten dollar/day price before I can even get to it. I am _seriously_ debating just sucking it up, and paying the extra five dollars for this one.

*And to round us off, Surviving the World5 touched on one of my favourite "deep questions" --namely, is sex with a perfect clone of yourself incest or masturbation7. And his answer is *excellent*.

What's interesting in your world?


1: Queer used here not to intend a slur, but simply a more definitive way of making sure I include EVERYONE who needs to be included, and not just limiting it by the letters I can remember in the general glbtqqaikp alphabet soup. (That's gay lesbian bi trans queer questioning asexual intersex kinky poly, in this case. I'm sure someone more savvy can toss out a couple others I missed.)

2: No, not really. I am smarter than a lot of people, but the people who are my closest friends tend to be smarter than I am. If "fag hag" wasn't such a detestable term, I would totally claim to be a "nerd hag".

3: comment.

4: The non-swearing half.

5: This is seriously one of the best comics on the internet. I adore Dante --among other things, he's the only cartoonist I've yet found that can outrank Randall Munroe on the "webcartoonists I would have a whole lot of awesome sex with given the chance"6 list.

6: I almost fixed this to be doing his taxes, which is not a euphemism, but no, I really do just find him immensely shagable. What can I say, I *really* like geeks.

7: This footnote intentionally left blank, save one hell of a cute little smirk.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Managed to cull the hats into the things I actually regularly wear. Even though it breaks my heart to do such a thing, since I do love my hats, quite dearly. Also, I really need to start doing the mom thing more often, and wearing a backwards ball cap --I have two perfectly good ones. (Would have three if I hadn't lost my Sweeney Todd one like an idiot)

At any rate, that's one of the two really hard clothing things done. Next, and those don't squish *nearly* as well.


So, a little bit of exploration re: that bacardi commercial I posted has led me to discover the fun that is Matt and Kim. I'm still sitting at three songs --the ones they've got official music videos-- but I like what I hear. Getting my hands on their album is a must; I keep putting on Daylight to clean to, and dancing around like an idiot instead. It's *very* fun.

Also, I mean, they strip down. In the middle of Times Square. In winter. For a Music Video.

What can I say, I'm a little bit of a sucker for girls who don't shave their armpits. Unshaven legs I can take or leave, but please leave the hair under the arms, it is totally lovely.

((yes, I am a little bit of a freak sometimes))

Also, it bugs me when people whine about musicians selling out. If Matt and Kim hadn't sold out by having their music in that commercial, they would have one less fan who enjoys their stuff and would be willing to go see them play live, if they came anywhere near Boston. (Though I am looking for excuses to go to New York...)

Plus, selling out = enough money to eat and make more music that you'll enjoy. Or whine about. Whichever.

(I am not actually a music fan, just a person who listens to music sometimes and likes it.)


Notetoself: Don't read YouTube comments. duh.

I have a lot of zip ties, and am not really sure why this is. Also, I'm rapidly approaching the point where I need an actual tool bag for myself, fucking *glee!* even if I lost my totally awesome knife damnit damnit

Seriously, making a cohesive list of everything left I had to pack was a really quite clever idea. Well done, Miss Kyress1. NOW DO THE THINGS ON THE LIST!

Notetoself, do a Sorky2 vocab sheet sometime. Need to have on it: Pumpkin Time, some names of mine, Milk Crates, ponies and monkeys, other things I say a lot, fwen. Similar to my acronyms cheat sheet.


I do not know what is up with my left hand these days. It just insists on baubles --doesn't feel right without three rings and some bracelets, or something equally warped. WHY DO YOU SO WANT FRIVOLS, SELF?

Also, judging by dad's tentative plans, I have less than forty-eight hours left in Maryland. BOOYAH!

Things I need to do during the daylight hours tomorrow: Return Larry's sound equipment, go to the post office and send presents to people. NTS: Make sure I have addresses. Also, bank. Also, at some point I need to order my birthday present for myself.

Hmm, wonder if the package center is hiring. It would certainly ensure that I actually get all my mail when it comes, and not, oh, in mid summer for packages sent in march. *rars at Lesley*.

((Those cookies were still delicious though!))

The beginning of "Board of Governors" from Jekyll and Hyde always sounds a bit like the music from The Weakest Link to me. More cracktastic artists than myself (or at least, more familiar with the J&H secondary characters) would be drawing this. "Henry Jekyll, you are....THE WEAKEST LINK. GOODBYE!"

...Hyde would like it to be know that he doesn't approve.

..........ohmygods, Henry Jekyll/Herbert West. They can try to out 'scientist' each other. It'll be all delightfully sociopathic and WONDERFUL. Both of them are all like "It's for a good cau-AUG MY LIFE IS BEING RUINED SHIT SHIT!"

Yes, I know there's only like one person out there who'll appreciate this, but whatever. THAT'S REASON ENOUGH TO POST IT!

......does that make Hyde Dan? Not at all. I'd say maybe Hyde corresponds to West, but Hyde's a lot less concerned with results. Arg and damnation.


((That's how I know I'm a chick. Seriously, I have way too many shoes to ever be a boy.))

It's always nice when this project looks doable, instead of "oh god oh god"

Iiiii don't want to do the rest of this. Like, at all. Someone come pack for me?

Still left to sort through/deal with: Notebooks?, Blank papers, Presents, Writing stuff, Wearable clothes, Laundry, Props box, Electronics, Business Cards, Pocket Stuff, Desk

Still left to pack: Photos, Weaponry, Jewelry stuff, Jewelry, Buttons, Love letters, Food, Top of Dresser, Legos?


I should just post this, and have more entertaining bits and pieces later or something.


Postscript: Found my diary. Yay!

1: This is totally the Katters' fault, as are many of my names (See: "Sor") The first time I ever heard her pronounce "Sorcyress" she was doing so with a k sound for the c, rather than the s sound I'd been using. It's...a thing that I split names down the middle (also her fault) so I chose to shift the name from Sor Cyress (Pronounced Sigh-ress)to Sor Kyress. (Kai-ress).

2: Pretty much the same as reasons stated above.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Three years ago today, it was 2006, and I wrote what was pretty much a completely solid entry. It had me arguing with myself (denoted with italics), discussing my day, crypticness, and a totally amusing location:

Juicebox! ...Hoorah for Zaphesque behaviour

((Of course, now all I can think of when I see "location: juicebox" is "My location is...bookshop."))

So, one of the more complicated denizen stories is that of Zaphod. For a very long time, Kat and I were both very very obsessed with Hitchhikers, and for whatever reason, she had a version of Ford1 running around in her head, and I had a version of Zaph. A fair amount of fan art got drawn involving these two, and us, and varying combinations thereof.

For some reason, somewhere along the way, she drew a picture of Zaphod, where he was casually drinking a juicebox with one head. The juicebox was just a detail, it didn't have anything to do with anything, but it immediately and totally felt perfect for his character. (I think it was this one, though I feel it was older)

Soyeah. Zaphod likes juice boxes.

Also, Ford looks damn good in a kilt.

Unrelatedly, "Quite Athwart goes All Decorum" remains the most wordporny sentence Shakespere's ever written, I do believe. *shivers happily*


1The other day I totally used "Sarcasm, Ford." on Emily. It made me smile.
sorcyress: A character from a comic about the maintenance workers of the universe, holding a thumbs up and saying "MOOP!" (Zonker-MOOP!)
So, while rifling through notes or notebooks or whatever, I found a list from my eleventh grade composition class --a list of words, originally intended for a spelling bee. I had found the most of them by picking random pages from a dictionary and picking random words.

But not just random words. A lot of them were picked for interesting definitions, or being hard to spell. But a few glorious ones...those were clearly picked because they were that glorious concept I call WordPorn --words that you just want to wrap your tongue around as you say, want to hear again and again, just because the very word itself is oh so perfect.

I took a moment to consolidate them into my proper wordporn list. For a moment, ignore definitions, ignore associations. Pick a word, roll it off your tongue, and appreciate it for the beauty and the poetry of the letters themselves.

Porn porn porn, for all that no censor would blink twice at most of these words )

So, what words just send a shiver down YOUR spine?

sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Was, in a word, hoopy. I got to actually meet [ profile] thirdbase and [ profile] dame_ratcliffe, I got to preform, I got hopelessly flattered for said preforming, and I got to hang out with [ profile] muzikmaker21 and [ profile] 777666.

Also, I was forced to witness first hand the utter awesomeness of the Rude Mechanicals, who are a pretty hoopy bunch of froods.

In other news, Hoopy and Frood are my words of the week.

All for now.


sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Post 10 Facts about yourself in your journal. Then post this sentence and see how many people do the same


1) I much prefer to make up my own curse words then use the standerd set. Baring my own, I like to use ones I've picked up out of books. Thats why I ocassionally say sheka, d'arvit or flarg when I'm pissed off. Also why I use Yaak as a curse word. Blame Eric for that one. (no not you Mac and tuna.)

2) The Night Santa Went Crazy was the first Weird Al song I ever heard.

3) I have a most excellent scar on my back due to heart surgery at the ripe old age of 2 and a half. It's shaped more or less like a cresent, and I rather like it.

4) I talk to myself CONSTANTLY. Everytime I walk home by myself, and sometimes when there are other people as well, I'm talking to myself. It's nice, never being alone.

5) I have pseudo-plans for a webcomic running about in my head. The problem is, I'm not sure if I've really got enough focus for it.

6) I never use the caps lock key. Ever. I just hold shift down when I need to shout something, even if it's a damm long message.

7) I have a figure of Bernard the wild thing sitting on my dresser. He is way cool. I actually have several action figure type things, Bernard the wild thing, The Black Spy, Cutter Leetah and Cutter's wolf...dammit, can't remember the name right now, it's been a while since I've read Elfquest.

8) A good swingset is one of the most cruicial factors to my happiness. I need to be able to, when I'm in a crappy mood, go and just swing and think, and have my mind settle itself.

9) I get motionsick pretty easily. It's finally gotten to the point where I haven't thrown up on a long car ride since the big trip, but I do get to the point where I feel as though I might, espceially if I read something.

10) I have a couple hundread over a thousand cranes hidden in my room. I really ought to do something with them, seeing as their all pretty and whatnot.




sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Katarina Whimsy

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