i wasn't done, now was i? how was i going to be done? i wasn't about to turn this around. i can't creep out somewhere & let pictures & words wash over me. i am no fucking sea shell. i will sting, i am the jellyfish. i am old, i am the horseshoe crab. i am. i am. i am singing my whale song. & if you stop trying...you won't. you all have your fucking furious weapons. i don't blame you. i'd turn the lens around on my archimedian sun-laser if i could too. stop it! i'm not looking at you. this is supposed to be about me. i know, i've been very recalcitrant lately. drama has been limited. i am pretty fucking great. i am! in a variety of ways. & you know what? i wish my allies would see that & take from it, rather than getting sick. fuck you guys. i am a very excellent warlock. but i mean, sure. i am lonely! it is funny to me. i'll be all desperate to hang out with people for the next week. you know, the weird attendant to it is that i guess i have to write off one of my back-up plans. it is hard to me to figure the "i don't want to be your friend anymore" thing into my equations, especially when i like (genuinely like) the individuals involved. heck, i'm still pissed about pam! i shouldn't act like i "get over" shit. i never do.