My step-dad, whom I adore, may be having a series of strokes. Small ones, but still. The man is a brilliant psychologist, the man who made my mum open up and be a person instead of a machine. He's been grumpy and tired and you know.. unwell, for a couple of months (acting like a little bitch actually, but one shouldn't say such things), and he finally went to the doctor. I'm a leetle worried. Just a bit. You know. Understating. It's the shit.
At the same time I think I may be having an existencial crisis, or at least a hormonal disturbance, I have no desire for sex or boys or anything at all. I hardly read books even. And I haven't "taken care of myself" in.... a... while... And I have no desire to.
There's still drama all over the place, like I left my fathers camera in Amsterdam, the hotel said they'd ship it to me, it hasn't arrived yet, and I think I have to buy him a new one, which I cannot afford, like seriously. Stoner-dude, I think I might want... but every time I think about it I just go "meh".
Give me back my spark!! A tiny one? It's been ages since I've even been annoyed enough to have to quell a desire to fork myself in the eye. And that's saying something.
And my cousin is on the war-front reporting in Ossetia, almost got executed on Sunday.
And I'm really very worried about my step-dad. He's the only person who sees through me when I lie. And he's the first man my mum's been like desperatly in love with (if I have to wait until I'm 40 for me to feel like that, I might actually stick a fork in my eye. Quelling will be out of the question), and I don't want her to be alone.
Bah.
*poke self with sharp stick* emo: pre-razor-style!
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