"M: Huh? Scars? Wha - wh - what the bloody hell are you talking about?
C: You're not a cutter.
M: No.
C: So you can't be...
M: *disrupt and LOL* So you think that because I don't have any self- inflicted scars on my body means that I'm not a goth?
C: Uh- hu. *nods*"
@_@
*Skull-fucks classmate*
Uuuurgh people thinking things like that really make me cross. I mean really, how stupid are some people?
Grrr!!
I mean how -dare- anyone say such things!? Do they have no soul? Do they have any idea the kind of emotional tramua a self-harmer goes through? Do they!?!
*Fumes*
Anyway.
I tend to stay away from talking to people while playing 'net games.
They have a nasty habit of being... Well... Nasty.
And having a shamefully poor grasp of the Queen's English.
What happened to me the other day..
I was staying with my sister and her clan in Cambridge, and I'd gone into a university book shop and this elderly fellow approached me and muttered something about "the trenchcoat mafia."
So I challenged him about it and it turns out he was a very nice fellow who rather liked the idea of being goth and being different and loved how I was going into policing.
He liked my leather studded gloves too. ><
And at work yesterday, first time I paint my nails in... Ooooh... A year. First customer I served (despite giving him a free bag of dog food and thus risking my job no less) after loading his car he takes me aside and asks...
"Are you a goth?"
"Erm... I try to be..."
"I thought so."
Well I never.
*Shakes head*
__________________
And then a chubby puppy with teensy legs rolls past which makes me giggle like a little school girl and forget what I was thinking about...
Breathing heard just below the floorboards.
The sense of something terrible rousing itself from
from its torpor.
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