(no subject)

Sleepy.

Blank.

Want to go challenge someone to a duel and get the shit beaten out of me (inevitably, you think I can really fight?)

Crap all over my room, my floor, my bed, my desk, every surface and possibly somethings that I didn't even know were surfaces, all my crap, bits of my life spread out and then suffocated, crammed into plastic bags and all the life sucked out of them.

All the life sucked out of me.

This is always dark, the night when I'm packing. But tonight, I really just want to give up, walk away, throw the key into the Cherwell, and disappear.

But my hiking rucksack's in the garage at home. Unfortunate oversight, that one.

I'm not going to disappear anyway, because I'm too bloody minded and stubborn. Always have been. Just don't give me options, and I'll do anything because I'm bloody minded.

Genetic trait. Or maybe it's too easy to blame my family.

I'd sleep, but my bed counts as a surface, and currently has crates on it I'm not sure I can lift in this state. Ooops.