i wish tumblr would just say

"hey, this asshole stopped following you.  what an asshole, right?"

instead it's all like, "oh, magically, this number that probably shouldn't matter to you as much as it does is now one less.  huh.  wonder how that happened?"

i mean, sure, i should spend the time i waste reblogging shit writing my own stories, so i'm productive and not just "hey.  look at that.  cool."  but most of the time my brain is just junk, so that's not happening.

hey.  look at that.  cool.

also: am i drunk, or is there like a nine inch nails video that has a spider doing spider things?  i saw a spider today, and was like, "isn't that that one video?"

maybe i was just drunk.


sorry.

laysan keys:

finally finished.  i am sorry i am such a horrible reader.

i continue to worry about laysan, and i suspect will do so for the rest of forever.  this all worked out.  i worry about the three keys.  i worry about a lot of things.

surely one day the conflict will all be gone, right?  paty and laysan will be able to be happy together forever, with no interruptions or distractions.  right?

either way, you don't have to answer this to tell me.  i'll hope for the best, no matter what.

love
sammy

[but it never posted, so i'm putting it here so i can copy it later.]

ok, this is nonsense

but david bowie.

omg

how is he that sexy?  like,

all the girls ever are all, "let's do sex, sammy"

"nope"

"david bowie"

"oh, fuck, we lose to that dude!"

omg.

i mean, he's all super old and shit, and i go on youtube, and i'm just like, "whenever, whatever, no one cares"

i love you, mr david bowie.

also, you, key.  you knew i loved you.  i love you so much.

let's call this a spooky story, even though it isn't really.

mostly, i just want to put it down so i have some record of it.  it's weird though.

so, like super early tuesday morning, i woke up in my living room on my couch.  this isn't super unusual.  my couch is like ten feet away from my bed, so it's not like i was wandering around a lot in my sleep.  i assume that i got up to pee, and went to the wrong place due to, let's say, "chemical issues."

except when i woke up to go back to my bed, all i could think was "wow, this is an awful lot of pain."

when i actually woke up, my back super hurt, and when i looked at it, there's like a two inch long gash on my right side.  there was also a blood stain on my couch where that point on my back was.

and i have no idea how it got there.  like, nothing else had blood on it.

so i'm saying it was a ghost.  a ghost stabbed me in the back.  or like, lightly sliced by back enough that it bled on my couch.

spooky.

ambien analogy

imagine your body is like that inside out movie i didn't see.  but you have all these bits that work together to ensure you live your life right.

now, imagine ambien comes in, puts them all to sleep, but leaves their understudies to take over.

"i'm pretty sure we've got like 60% leg movement.  if you're sure you want a trip to the kitchen, go for it, but be prepared to grab on to keep steady."

"um, i think we're being poisoned with vodka, too.  can we just shut down balance entirely to prevent damage?"

"no, because if we do that, we lose "not throwing up," and this post-it note i just found indicates that this is a big deal for the day shift."

"fine, but i'm going to see if triggering a song to sing will keep the movements synchronized, since the only scheduler seems to be the one that sings."

"we have a stubbed toe!  repeat!  stubbed toe!  it should hurt like a motherfucker, but it's kind of just a dull ache.  initiate a massage mode to see if we can wake up the health team if it feels weird and broken."

"omg, and now the lights go out?  wtf?"


sorry, secondary conscious systems that have to run things when the main ones are incompacitated because they made a formal decision to end the day with a bunch of sleeping pills to shut things down.  i know they love you, too.