(from the Scott Pilgrim video game, from Game Informer.)
The rainy day opened up its guts, gave the Viking Blood Wings & dumped all the blood in its lungs over the City of Gotham. & well, yeah, zip, there went my motivation. Doesn't matter; did my gym-thing yesterday & I've got time to go in a couple days, too. Though all of a sudden everything is converging on this weekend. Today ended up a mess of nothing, then; handfuls of something pulled up from the dirt that just turn out to be nightcrawlers. Tried to watch a couple of movies; it turns out all of the Resident Evil movies I got from Netflix to keep me company I've already seen. How did that happen? Later I put on Let the Right One In, to finally watch that. I got about thirty minutes into it before; well, before i was just about done. On the plus side, I remembered that Portishead exists. So I can let Jenny Lewis drink a glass of water or something. I couldn't listen to the Mountain Goats; too cheerful. That is a good sign, right? Speaking of glasses, I'm on my third & last & then for bed. I'm going to shoot for hitting the sheets. This self pitying schtick is boring even me! I'm not really; I reiterate that point. I'm just enjoying wallowing in the dark & listening to the music of a misspent youth. I mean, what otherwise business have I been up to? Well, really nothing much. I know a shadow. I spent a fortnight in Dunwich. I sang a song across the ocean to R'lyeh. Yes, I'm pleasantly spooky glum. I continue to be very unhappy with sleeping; I slept on my arms last night, sucking all the blood out of both of them. The morning was the saga of the pins & needles; I'm Raggedy freaking Mordy. & I am sleeping through the whole night? Normally I guess like...vibrations from Jenny wake me up? I get up, I go to the bathroom, maybe I stare out the living room window (Batman pensively overlooking his city, Superman staring into the ice wastes) then I potter back to bed. Instead I'm just trapped in the dark phantasmagory that I guess is always lurking. Which is fine with me. Black thorns come & darn my socks! Night fangs come & gnash in my ear. You are the Anti-life for me! We've got a war to fight here, right Beth? Well I do, anyway. Aw, forget this. I am going to go listen to "Trying My Best to Love You" (a game I am the winningest of winners at, by the way) & then go to bed. Look at me, all smug & self satisfied now. & like a crocodile, my teeth don't line up, they goblin out of my mouth on either side. & like a crocodile when you see me crying it don't mean what you think it does. Come start a land war in Asia with me, baby. I want to roast marshmallows at the feet of Jeanne d'Arc. I want to find the Dark & Stormy Knight & gun him down from our turret. I guess I'll just sit here lurking on my throne of glass. With my crown of iron & all the rest. I'll wait here for you to come back, baby. I know you aren't on the internet. I'll punch in our numbers into websites. To make sure that the hive mind keeps spinning, to keep the un-church bells ringing.