10-07-2020, 01:54 PM
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THERE’S VACANCY IN EVERY NIGHTMARE
The ocelot walked to the small Roux gathering, her forked tail flicking over the sandy beach. Her steps were slow, as she carefully maneuvered around shells and rocks. Her lower pair of eyes scanned the ground, while the other flicked from speaker to speaker.
“That’s a lovely little pile you’ve found,” Rosemary said. And she meant it; as a sort of collector herself, mostly of assorted plants and odd curiosities, she instinctively understood the simple joy of finding a neat bundle. “Are you going to use them to decorate your home?”
[sub][W]isker[/sub]“That’s a lovely little pile you’ve found,” Rosemary said. And she meant it; as a sort of collector herself, mostly of assorted plants and odd curiosities, she instinctively understood the simple joy of finding a neat bundle. “Are you going to use them to decorate your home?”
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?