I was suddenly and oddly focused. It was two a.m., now, and I was at the mercy of a pretty girl and close to passing out. Or gas, whatever. The distractions were absolutely useless. I tried practically Nancy Thompson-ing my way out of it, sweet-talking my way out, hell--I'm sick and close to puking right now, yet somehow surviving like it's no big deal despite coming close before...like some primed shell-shocked veteran of ghost possessing despite stammering.
"You know, this whole hanging on the edge of possibly being possessed thing actually doesn't sound that bad now...really, I'm being honest...I could be falling off a roof, but no...you're actually nice for someone who could kill me--with everything from manipulating my suicidal tendencies to just making my brains into a vegetable soup. So thank you...I'll be just taking this nice little--china plate here...and going to bed, yeah--like your mother asked me to...goodnight."
Okay, so it'd take a while for the Langenkamping to kick in. Give me a break, my back hurt.
The feeling was outrageous when it did kick in, however, me, launching into a strange babbling tirade for what seemed like the first time ever--still so wildly confused and yet everything else in between--and the feeling lasted up until Sunday morning, where it fizzled into a nice "meh".
YOU ARE READING
Puppetry
RandomWell, let's get this out of the way now. I'm bored and figured--what the hell, I might as well chronicle each day from now until the very end. No particular deadline, really. And something hurts in my hips, so I need to distract from the pain in it...
