I am actually pathetic.
potionskeeper: I don't mean to be a bother, and I realize I'm probably really pushing it, but I don't really want to be myself anymore today and wondered if you'd do me the honor of some--any, it doesn't have to be sage and george it could be literally anyone-- pretending.
And why, really? When it comes down to it, why today do I want so badly to be someone else? Because I'm not who I want to be. I want to be naturally pretentious and health-oriented and thin and wealthy. I want to be able to say no to ice cream and to go to bed early and love silly indie films.
I fear I like french fries too much and that nothing ever meets my expectations. It's unfair that I have my body and my money supply, and if I wasn't pathetic five minutes ago at the beginning of this entry, aren't I now that Sam has yet to reply to my desperate plea for roleplaying?
I've got to get back to Hendrix where at least I'm too busy for this nonsense.
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