Black Doggerel

...I don't want Blogathon to be over. Last year felt like a marathon; this year's almost went by too fast. I miss that crazed adrenaline rush. I miss the attention already. I feel so anticlimactic and emo now; I started having crying jags as soon as I finally went to bed yesterday, er, this afternoon.

*shakes self*

It'll pass. I just loved that feeling of being part of something bigger than myself. I want it back now plz.

Note to self: it wasn't a good idea to let all the hospital/baby/kitten business get in the way of refilling the antidepressant prescription.




*bump*

Or, in other words, I'm in love again.

Ultraviolet. Not the movie, the series.

Trying very very very hard not to watch it all in one go; there's so little of it - but what there is is packed dense with things that hook and draw you in.

In other news - Still tired, still restless, still discontented and fed up. Kittens are fine, I took pics, will get round to posting them sometime.

Spike's fine but it worries and upsets me still.

I was about to say that I can't explain how seeing him limping, the visible reminder that he's only mortal flesh and I will likely see him die, makes me feel; but I think Robinson Jeffers can:

( It's not entirely unlike this. Poem under the cut. )

ramona, you'll need a tissue before clicking the cut. I did.