Fuck This Cabin Fever

To my dismay I have discovered that sitting alone in my room for more or less one week is enough to give me cabin fever. I never used to have this problem- maybe it’s because I have entire days to fill with a void that it’s starting to get to me.

If my door had a small bar-covered window in the middle of it I would be bouncing up and down and pulling on the bars. Monky in a cage. It’s got so bad that when there’s no-one about on msn I feel let down. Or should I say, certain individuals anyway.

I just feel like (hysteria increases) fucking!! spazzing!!! OUT!!!!

I’ve been wandering a few times (a friend’s party, skool, MW#2’s) but I have a horrible itch for shenanegans. I want a nice pair of slutty heels, to dress up, have me some drinks and spend some time exploring someone. And while I’m at it find out what the back of their neck feels like, run my fingers through their hair and slide my hand along the muscles in their back. I can multitask. To be honest, I would be completely happy with some good old-fashioned meaningful making out but being a basket case I can’t even manage that.

My bruises are fading. Sigh.

So I am posting more frequently, downloading more things. I can now (in theory) use my Zen as a lil’ server and stream my music across the web. So (once again in theory) I can become my own radio station, and people can access my files and “borrow” them. I think this is good (in theory) but at 2.35 Saturday morning, everyone is asleep or out whoring.

Whoring. That is a word I really must try and work into more everyday conversation.

“Over the panties, no bra, blouse
unbuttoned, Calvin’s in a ball on
the front seat past eleven
on a school night?”

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