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Serenity Freiheit
Aug 2007 - Nov 2007

***

The last three months of my life have dissapeared.

No, I don't want to talk about it.

Update on Everything

This has the potential to become very rambly. We'll see momentarily. Luckily, I'm waiting for my class to start, so I only have about ten minutes to write. did I say luckily? Fuck I'm tired, having a time limit on non-school writing is a ludicrous situation.

***

So, my harddrive is borked. The last three months of everything are completely and utterly vanished. I'm going to try and call the computerdoctors today and see if I can at least get Serenity's physical hard drive to take home with me, where I will begin handing it to various people to see if they can get anything out of it. I'm not expecting much.

***

I have begun to write a scale of personal catastrophes. Losing a significant chunk of my writings (Which is what happened) is worse then losing a leg, and possibly going deaf. It is not as bad as losing my right hand (*struggles not to quote Sweeney Todd fanart*) and not as bad as death, which is pretty high up there as personal catastrophes go.

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"Dear self: For future reference, when your computer does something wonky, your first thought should always be to BACK EVERYTHING UP IMEDIATELY DUM-BASS!"

(Yes, that's pronounced bass as in the holy ass of god / all your base are belong to us. Yes, I realize that my brain is really REALLY quite strange.)

***

Watched series one of Coupling last night with Magus in a semi desperate, albeit successful, attempt to distract myself. Also went dancing, for much the same reason, and to much the same effect. Also: Dancing + Men in kilts = Hella completely happy Sorcy. Or at least a VERY distracted one.

***

Have notes to post in Kattales at some point, regarding religion in my primary setting of Dnal. More stuff from sixth grade, which is not actually a bad thing --I expect that sometime in the very near future, this nostalgia kick will force me to pick up Timor Dragonsblood* again, which could be very good or very bad.

*Pretty much my first ever "This is the novel that I will be famous for". The current one that I will be famous for is *probably* Royal Blue Eyes.

***

In a moment of extreme awesomeness, this is the first year that I was posting my WriMo novel as I went. So I have that.

In other awesomeness, before I went to Thanksgiving, I tossed a handful of my favourite pictures onto Jacklynn Hyde (my ipod) to have a quick way to show my parents my friends. So I have 24 pictures still, which, I suppose, is good. None of these pictures are of Randall Munroe which, I suppose, is bad.

***

Classtime.

~Sor
MOOP!
BtW (slightly)

Future entries: Mortal Goddesses
Sharpie + emo

More stuff about everything. Well, okay, mostly about being emo and lesbians.

So, last Tuesday I had an emo attack of the *worst* sort, which led to me curled up on the floor crying and holding my boxcutter. Not cutting myself, not cutting anything else (although I was tempted to butcher my jeans just as an outlet) just playing with it. Eventually, my brain kicked in and went all "hurr, you're a writer, why don't you write on yourself instead of not-cut yourself. Doesn't hurt anyone!"

So...I did. I wrote an exceptionally emo poem called "Litany of Hate" using myself as the canvas. I wrote it mostly on my arms and legs, and have done my best to reproduce the not COMPLETELY behind the walls bits here:

( Said poem. An unhealthy combination of emo and 'Why Sorcy is effed up' version point whatever beneath the cut. Own risk, blabla )

So! Results.

( In which Sorcy does manage to metadiscuss the above poem and some of the ramifications it had on her, but also spends quite a bit of time digressing about movies, being distractable, and plotting lesbian biblophiliac porn. )

Logically, I think the next thing to do would be an analysis of the poem itself, but I'm bored of writing this, and will do so later. (Later here having a meaning of broken'never'. [/scruffy!Norrington]) I'm off to go scrawl down random things in the writersjournal about bits of world that I have been building since sixth grade. Ta!

~Sor
MOOP!

(((Apropos of nothing, I appear to have coined a new term in the dictionary of useful Kat-stuffs. Before the Walls. It's the general equivilant of things that are behind the walls, except that you lot get to read it.)))

Postscript: My English class is rubbing off on me. I actually went back and fixed the text of the second cut so that it had proper parrallelism. On a side note, what does ETA mean? I got that it's some sort of "I edited this" shorthand, but I don't actually know the rest.

Continuing my vast collection of notes about things:

I like my hair.

***

I get my wretch of a computer back tomorrow, hopefully. At some point. Between school, and gaming, and papers, and...

I have pretty much decided that the dead stays dead and I take this as an abject lesson in not being a dum bass. Bye BtW 2.0. I'm sure I'll begin 3.0 when I have the new harddrive...

***

Addicted to Bad Ideas is an awesome song, and good for walking. Also, I need a drumset. DRUMS!

***

Oh god. I'm like Jeff from Coupling only instead of an unnatrural obsession with breasts, I'm obsessed with drums.

...I...don't even know what to say to that thought.

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On the subject of thoughts, this was a bad thoughtstream:

Brush hair, brush brush. Hi mirror! Yayhair being brushed out and pretty and wavy. Hum, this light makes me look like a boy. *study* I look like my brother! I...can't believe I just thought that, and I think I need to disown that part of my brain and fix this problem immediately.

***

My brain is cycling something awful onto the things I no longer have. I'll be just fine, and then my brain will somehow link into "transcriptions of text messages you wanted to keep!" or "Really bitchin' picture of you in your vest!" or "Entry into BtW that explains what it feels like to be perfect and how happy you are, just to be a counter to the massive amounts of angst that float in there."

And that kinda sucks. So, if I randomly go "Fuck! _____________" anytime during the next week, this is why. Please be patient.

Examples:
...Fuck. Three folders full of ShadowKevin taken pictures from Rocky Horror.
Fuck, every picture of Amanda I had, plus...oh, HELL NO. Oh fucking hellgods no, I lost the Jekyll and Hyde and Lucy pictures. Damnit, damnit, damnit!

*sulks* This game sucks.

***

There were two things I was going to post about. One was the Addicted to Bad Ideas thing, and the other was...something. BUGGE'*

*Bugger, only I don't pronounce the "r" when I am shouting it annoyedly. One of my assorted swears that I cycle through, like son of a _____________ (where the blank is usually filled with one of the following: Bitch, priest, cock, whore, or a priest, a whore, and a silver spoon. I like swearing. This is because I am not a lady.

***

Actually, I am, apparently, an overstuffed plaid chair. Nono, not as a thing, just as my...gender. Um. Yeah.

I'd say it's dan4th's fault, but it's really not. See, if we consider the idea that there is an opposite sex, that means the sexes are inverses of each other, ie, male and -male or notmale.

And females are not male. But as someone pointed out, overstuffed plaid chairs are also notmale.

And I am notmale, therefore I am an overstuffed...plaid...chair. Fuck man, I don't even BEGIN to know what's wrong with my brain.

***

Flipping through Lauren's CD's, I found myself drawn to the cover of a Paramore album, which had a couch sitting in the middle of an empty field. I was *very* dissappointed that it wasn't an outward hitchhikers reference.

***

That is enough things for now. I think I will go wander and the like. By wander I mean eat, and find somewhere where I can sing along to my music loudly. That may be at my secret place (and I cannot express how difficult it was to find a secret place in boston, and it's really not perfect as there are windows that stare at it. GAH NEED TREE, YES!)

Actually, under my desk is kinda my comfort place, but I can't really go there and sing. Or I could, but it wouldn't do anything to keep Grace from hearing me singing. Soyeah. Tangent, much?

Damnit, I need to zip back through my journal and yoink addresses from people. AngrySunBird, Janny, KittieKattie, Leenah, skullx, thirdbase(?)...who else has posted their address with the request to gather addy's for christmas cards? Comments are not screened, but if you just tell me you did it recently, I can go trawl through your journal and find it.

***

I have a wooden banana.

~Sor
MOOP!

No walls involved.

Laterposts to include:
Stealing words from people (Yessum, yep, niff, nommy, yuh-huh, grin/sigh, Ohmygod (umbagog))
Christmas type list and request for addressess so I can send out last years cards :D
Words, that essay I mentioned like a million entries ago that I never wrote and now need to even more
The State of the Sorcy's Sexuality (which may or may not involve couches) which, Fuck, I wrote that already. Fucking Seren.

PostScript: What should I name the next computer? Since computers are defined by their harddrives rather then their casing, this next computer will not be Serenity Freiheit. I think I'm leaning towards Serendipity, which was the other name for Seren, but that seems...unfitting judging by the current total lack of serendipity in my life. :P