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I own some castles somewhere, too
I think del.icio.us (or whatever the current confusingly sans-full-stops nomenclature is) is bad for my mental health. I am become one of those people who obsessively follows how many people have bookmarked their fics. And who can see all too clearly the number of people bookmarking fics that have not COMMENTED on said fics, and who addend their bookmarks with praise that creates for me a very pleased shoulder-angel and a shoulder-devil who leaps up and down yelling REALLY. YOU THINK THAT. HOW NICE. WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE TOLD ME TO MY FIGURATIVE FACE?
And then I go and breathe quietly in a corner somewhere.
Sorry, guys, I'd update with actual content if I had any. Instead all I have is one set of five characters who don't really want to talk to me, and another set of eight characters who will talk until the cows come home but not about anything relevant to their story.
Why do I do this to myself? Why couldn't I have picked a nice sanity-preserving hobby like, say, juggling knives?
And then I go and breathe quietly in a corner somewhere.
Sorry, guys, I'd update with actual content if I had any. Instead all I have is one set of five characters who don't really want to talk to me, and another set of eight characters who will talk until the cows come home but not about anything relevant to their story.
Why do I do this to myself? Why couldn't I have picked a nice sanity-preserving hobby like, say, juggling knives?