LJ makes me feel like a ghost.

[illiterate]

Because masochism is the flavor of the week:

Unscreened, unlocked, unlogged: tell me what you think of me, anonymously or not. If you've got something to say, now is the time.

(I used to think I was the the bad influence,

Comments

[anonymous]

You've always struck me as really immature for your age, but I think that's getting better as you get older (even though I don't talk to you much anymore). You're flighty in your affections, which makes it frustrating to know you sometimes. Both of these things make you kind of a jerk, and occasionally, an actual jerk, mostly because your self-involvement makes you pretty inconsiderate.

I still like you, anyway - you're like a hummingbird, constantly flitting from place to place and leaving once you've got what you came for, but still nice to have around for that five seconds or so. And pretty.

[anonymous]

I like reading your journal because it's a nice window into a rather glamorous world I can't experience for myself, but it's depressing for the same reason.

Your sidebar about stealing books grosses me out. Is that supposed to be charming?

[anonymous]

I don't know if you like me anymore, and the possibility that you've gotten bored with me, or worse, dislike me now, makes me really sad. Because I think you're pretty amazing.

If you aren't my friend anymore, I'll deal. But I wish you would be. And I wish I knew.

[tobyzantium]

You still are the bad influence. I'm the shit-starter. (I still need that fucking tshirt.)

To continue with your theme from mine: you're one of maybe three people who can't kill themselves without me following after.

[hermionesviolin]

I still recall fondly the one time we met up at Haymarket and talked fannish stuff, and I'm still kinda bummed that we never really hung out or even talked after that.