(no subject)

Some mornings I get up and hate the internet.
Mostly this morning, I feel sad for the pandas.

(no subject)

I can hear a helicopter flying low nearby, and illegal fireworks exploding in the parking lot behind our building. It's a weird feeling. I have all the lights off, and the sky is fading into darkness outside. I don't know why I'm sitting here.

Two pages down, one more thing to be written and then I'm done for the night.

I want to make little sunflower cakes.

(no subject)

My father can't be bothered to even call sometime around my birthday, but he has time to send me absurd forwards talking about what a raving radical maniac Mrs. Kerry is? Oh fuck that, just fuck that.

It's not even that I'm bothered by my father's very conservative politics. It's that he doesn't care enough about me, and that he's never taken the time to really know who I am.