I am at a damaging state of denial. Currently, "I'm not at all tired." But my brain's telling me, "Shush. Go to bed or else you'll be seriously effed for the rest of the day."
Ah wells.
Also, I feel as if I have come to a conclusive realization, one that's been all too obvious to the alluring little friends in the closeted spaces of my mind. *continues dramatic fashion* It's very likely that I'll at some point become an alcoholic who smokes a pack a day. *ouch, that hurt the child inside* I won't bother with why or how I came to this, but I have.
Oh, despite my hate for the smell of cigarrettes, or my scoliosis that says drugs are not only bad for me, but veryveryvery detrimental to my health. Isn't it for all? Yes.
Anyhoo. My third state is one of wonder. Like, I wonder what the hell is taking Remittance Girl so long to post the last chapter-type-things of her all too moving and gorgeously written story, "Beautiful Losers." No, I don't recommend you read it (incase you were also in a momentary state of wonder). Just, no.
Instead, check this out:
oh, and thisss. . .
