(no subject)
Oct. 28th, 2003 11:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsI have a plan today to get caught up with comments at least. I owe so many replies and comments to stories posted. I get sidetracked so easily when I'm online...sigh. But yes, the plan is comments answered.
Reading my flist and saw the halloween meme, and did it of course. Halloween's not that big a deal here. You get a few kids roaming around but they ask for money not sweets. I don't mind on the actual night, I'll give something to the kids that make an effort to dress up, especially the small ones that are brought round with their parents. What annoys me is for about a week before gangs of kids, who don't even bother with costumes knock on the door, chanting 'Penny for Halloween'. I don't think so!
But I don't mind a virtual halloween, so
Adelate, I'm shocked at you!
Talking of meme's. I called someone in the states yesterday and it suggested that it's a good job that I didn't do that hear my voice thing, because no one would understand me *g*
What else? I wrote something forsentinel_thurs yesterday. I was in a downer when I wrote it and it shows. I've no idea if it makes sense or not, but hey, that's nothing new about the stuff I write *g*.
No pairing in it.
It was the little things that hurt the most, the old note on the cupboard, the shut bedroom door, the lack of any clutter in the loft. Jim should have been happy, his home was clean, gleaming, not a thing out of place – he hated it.
Night after night Jim sat on the sofa, watching what he wanted to see on TV, cold beer at his side, stomach full from his favourite meal. He should have been comfortable, instead he itched, an itch that wouldn’t end. He could have coped if it was external, but it was deep inside, in a place only one person could reach. Jim wanted to gouge at his skin, digging fingernails deep into muscle and bone, finding the maddening itch that tormented him day and night. He’d tried once, when he sat alone once more, the only sound the drone of a TV downstairs. Had sat on the pristine couch and dug sharp fingernails into tender skin, scratching and digging until blood streamed from deep cuts. He only stopped when he got scared. Scared that if he went too deep all he’d find was empty space and an itch that was only in his head.
The emptiness terrified Jim, he tried to fill the space with dates and friends, but nothing helped. He could ignore the itch for a while, masking it with emotions pulled from others. But it was a temporary fix and as he walked back to the loft the emotions would bleed away, the hollow growing in size with each step.
Each day it seemed to get bigger, overpowering him. He was empty inside except for that itch. He couldn’t feel but felt too much, couldn’t see but saw too much, couldn’t hear but heard too much. It was driving him crazy, and Jim didn’t know how long he could hold on. How long he could go on existing when all he wanted to do was sit and suffocate, feeling the despair claw at his throat while he clawed at his own skin.
He needed Blair to scratch that itch, but Blair wouldn’t. Blair couldn’t and the itch went on.
Also last night the man across the street knocked to say he thought our rabbit had escaped. And she had. She was on the way down the bank that leads to the dual carriage way at the bottom of the bank outside of our house. Her hutch latch had broken so she's inside now. In fact at the moment she's under my feet, which I'm not keen on. She doesn't bite but I keep imaging her sinking her teeth into my foot. Plus last time she was inside she chewed through a tv wire.
Now, comments...
Reading my flist and saw the halloween meme, and did it of course. Halloween's not that big a deal here. You get a few kids roaming around but they ask for money not sweets. I don't mind on the actual night, I'll give something to the kids that make an effort to dress up, especially the small ones that are brought round with their parents. What annoys me is for about a week before gangs of kids, who don't even bother with costumes knock on the door, chanting 'Penny for Halloween'. I don't think so!
But I don't mind a virtual halloween, so
| My LiveJournal Trick-or-Treat Haul |
|---|
| turps33 goes trick-or-treating, dressed up as scarecrow. |
| _jules_ gives you 18 pink coconut-flavoured gumdrops. |
| adelate tricks you! You get a button. |
| babycakesin gives you 15 red peach-flavoured pieces of taffy. |
| castalie gives you 19 dark green lemon-flavoured pieces of bubblegum. |
| ceci2176 gives you 2 light orange cinnamon-flavoured hard candies. |
| dine gives you 5 teal apple-flavoured hard candies. |
| dreamtrance gives you 15 light blue cinnamon-flavoured hard candies. |
| jencat004 gives you 1 teal passionfruit-flavoured gummy fruits. |
| kifty gives you 19 light green lime-flavoured gummy worms. |
| ninjetti75 gives you 7 red root beer-flavoured gummies. |
| turps33 ends up with 101 pieces of candy, and a button. |
| Another fun meme brought to you by rfreebern. |
Adelate, I'm shocked at you!
Talking of meme's. I called someone in the states yesterday and it suggested that it's a good job that I didn't do that hear my voice thing, because no one would understand me *g*
What else? I wrote something for
sentinel_thurs yesterday. I was in a downer when I wrote it and it shows. I've no idea if it makes sense or not, but hey, that's nothing new about the stuff I write *g*.No pairing in it.
It was the little things that hurt the most, the old note on the cupboard, the shut bedroom door, the lack of any clutter in the loft. Jim should have been happy, his home was clean, gleaming, not a thing out of place – he hated it.
Night after night Jim sat on the sofa, watching what he wanted to see on TV, cold beer at his side, stomach full from his favourite meal. He should have been comfortable, instead he itched, an itch that wouldn’t end. He could have coped if it was external, but it was deep inside, in a place only one person could reach. Jim wanted to gouge at his skin, digging fingernails deep into muscle and bone, finding the maddening itch that tormented him day and night. He’d tried once, when he sat alone once more, the only sound the drone of a TV downstairs. Had sat on the pristine couch and dug sharp fingernails into tender skin, scratching and digging until blood streamed from deep cuts. He only stopped when he got scared. Scared that if he went too deep all he’d find was empty space and an itch that was only in his head.
The emptiness terrified Jim, he tried to fill the space with dates and friends, but nothing helped. He could ignore the itch for a while, masking it with emotions pulled from others. But it was a temporary fix and as he walked back to the loft the emotions would bleed away, the hollow growing in size with each step.
Each day it seemed to get bigger, overpowering him. He was empty inside except for that itch. He couldn’t feel but felt too much, couldn’t see but saw too much, couldn’t hear but heard too much. It was driving him crazy, and Jim didn’t know how long he could hold on. How long he could go on existing when all he wanted to do was sit and suffocate, feeling the despair claw at his throat while he clawed at his own skin.
He needed Blair to scratch that itch, but Blair wouldn’t. Blair couldn’t and the itch went on.
Also last night the man across the street knocked to say he thought our rabbit had escaped. And she had. She was on the way down the bank that leads to the dual carriage way at the bottom of the bank outside of our house. Her hutch latch had broken so she's inside now. In fact at the moment she's under my feet, which I'm not keen on. She doesn't bite but I keep imaging her sinking her teeth into my foot. Plus last time she was inside she chewed through a tv wire.
Now, comments...
