Not really feeling quite myself lately so I have to say I have kind of been neglecting Deviant for a while. My Poetry book looks at me like a puppy I have forgotten to feed and I still can't get up the strength to put any food in his bowl. I fear any day now that the dog will kill me and wag it's tail as it eats my flesh. How is that mental image for you?

Expect some new things because little did I know before I wrote this journal but I just inspired myself. I didn't even know that was possible but I suppose it must be if it just happened. Sort of like when you say there is no way you could survive going on a roller coaster or something like that and then you do it. We restrict ourselves too much it seems. But what am I doing telling you about this as if it will do any good? I need to feed my puppy.