Hand over my mouth. Hand over the window.

[thejunipertree]

I feel strange.

Things are better, I venture to say. And I'm
beginning to attempt the grasping of some
alien concepts. I'm just unable to fully put my
thoughts about them into words that would make
sense to those of you who do not speak the
chaotic chittering starling language that can
spew from my mouth, at times. But, at the moment,
I'm dealing well with things. Just as long
as I keep certain things in my heart, I'm
able to deal. Just as long as I don't allow my
trust/self-esteem issues to get in the way
things will be alright. I repeat this and
hope to convince myself.

I'm going to the bookstore at nine o'clock
with dearest of the dear, Black Death. I need
to fill up on my addiction of reading material,
though I never finished reading what I bought
last time. I just haven't had the chance
to do so. I read bits and bobs of the
speculative fiction book about Lovecraft and
Howard. It's fine by me, though it would seem
a small bit contrived in some points.

The ferrets are out and about. Racing around
my feet and laughing their quiet little
ferret laugh as they run down the hall. The
albino, Midnight, just tried to climb my
boot in a very dainty, lady-like way. I picked
her up in my hands, gave her kisses on her
pointy little head, then sent her on her
merry way. Which mostly involves keeping away
from the baby ferret, Edgar.

*ponder*

I think I need to bestow a new name on Black
Death. It just seems...strange (?) to refer to
him as such. Perhaps I'll just call him Goose,
as that is frequently what he gets called in
my company.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

You're kissing your elbow, You're kissing your reflection