My muses are still being bastards, regardless of the frantic and frenetic way my mind's been churning lately. It's an uneasiness in my synapses, coated with a bit of weed and a little rum. There are snippets and peeks, but nothing concrete, and I believe, that it may drive me to madness
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When are you going to post that fic you sent me, the one I really liked (Tiny Pieces of Flesh? Something with flesh?). It was very good and I have a lot of people I'd recommend it to...
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I'll get to it one of these days. It's just such a pain to splice up documents as huge as those for these journal entries, ya know? Plus, I've got to find where I've stored them. lol.
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