Stuff I like, all stashed in one little place.
Painfully cute or painfully morbid, my heart nearly explodes as I descend into a frenzied faint.
Naturally, no images/videos are mine unless stated otherwise.
A Londoner living in Derbyshire, destined for who knows where.
…is when I’m ill. I’m hungry and could do with some cranberry juice but I’ll be buggered if I’m standing up and causing more pain.
And I hate to admit it, but a bit of cuddly fuss might be nice. For a bit. Not too much.
…I decided to get into the spirit of it this year. Got myself a little tree, decorated, wrapped presents, listened to festive songs and made some festive plans with friends. But you know what I’ve discovered? Its all only relevant if you are (a) in love, or (b) a child. I am completely lost at having nobody to fuss over/plan special presents for/snuggle and feel the “magic” with. The religious aspect means nothing to me, and my family don’t get together so that rules out the other meanings of the day.
Sure, I’ll enjoy the food and seeing my parents and being off work. But thats just a standard trip home. Don’t get me wrong I am looking forward to it, its just I foresee the whole thing being a dash anti climax.
So this year reverting back to option (b) will be my smokescreen. And copious amounts of wine with breakfast on Christmas day.
…and I blame this solely on the lack of sex in my life this year.
I would apologise for my irritable behaviour, but I’d rather commit cold blooded murder thanks.
…now I’ll be awake for hours, with nothing but my thoughts and my duvet to keep me company.
I fucking dislike today.