Reposts of reposts

Today in real life I apologize to those I've worried, including Pyro and Scoot. I had a cell phone thrown at me today and was expected to help the perpetrator find the battery for it after it shattered into several detachable pieces. I'm getting very good at mediation. After it was over, I was able to dig out my mp3 player and my headphones from my mess of a room and walk to the bathroom. Thanks to the wonders of psychology, I am partially unable to begin crying until I press play. The new carpet on the bathroom floor is rather uncomfortable but I assume 'pillow' isn't one of its intended functions. A touch over four minutes later, and I'm over it. Another four minutes, and my eyes are barely even bloodshot. The next song comes on. (Yes, I do have a playlist for these things.) I'm sitting on the floor and staring at the wall. Catharsis. Success. This happens about once a week. A purging ritual. I hope I don't sound emo with this entry, because I sincerely suggest this routine for everyone. It's better to have it scheduled than to wait for something to trigger it. No, really. Take it from me, you'll feel so much better throughout the week.

Today on the internets I RP'd with Pyro right before the incident. Again, I apologize to Pyro and Scoot for putting an unexpected damper on things, if I may be bold as to give myself the credit. I tried to keep it to a minimum by not discussing the issue during my emotional compromise and simply leaving the respective areas of our mutual communication. If there is one thing I do not do, it is unload. On a different note, this. Isn't it amazing how civilization in the 1920s pictured civilization in the 1950s? We're already looking back on how humanity pictured the 2000s with amusement, what with the painful lack of commercially available flying cars, household cleaning robots, and weddings. I suppose the most accurate prediction was the automation of our modern world. Who could've blamed them for being so hopeful, though? There was no way we could have predicted our capitalist society to stunt the discovery and growth of new ideas, like how 1920s America couldn't have expected, oh, spikes in national obesity rates to render spiral escalators inappropriate for common use. Nah, I'm just kiddin'. I want a spiral escalator for my house. Then roll a slinky down the middle of it, videotape it, and become the next YouTube fad. Isn't it frightening how easy it is to reach millions of people? And what do we do with that power? Precisely.

Today in fiction working on more fanfic, hope to have it ready for beta before I go to sleep.