my sweet pale-wan-and-sickly-one now has a diary, and wonderful...

it so cheers me!! *grin* for i think that writing in this thing has generally been good for the psyche and such. (plus, this way she can keep track of random musings and such.)

*yawn*

so in my dream last night, i was hanging out in St. Phil's cemetary by myself, and all of the sudden an air raid siren blared through the air...of course this meant that the cemetary alarm was tripped, and the church police were going to come down on me, all holy and such. i decided not to stay for the festivities, so i hopped in the tank and made for the gate. the huge, rod-iron gates were swinging closed and such, of course, and acceleration was mostly impossible. i slow-motioned toward the now closed gates, thinking to ram them. at this point i noticed a few other cars around in the cemetary parking lot, trapped cars full of nervous punk rockers. heh. i rammed the gate through, and we all sped away (together) from being caught.

after stopping in a BigBird parking lot, we decided to traverse to an abandoned warehouse to crash for the night. fun to hang out with the punks. we played with glitter and such. *grin* hrm, then Mr.Roboto was there and was kissing my neck and such as i rolled my eyes. then i woke up. ha!