Feb. 27th, 2003

redfirecracker: (Default)
Oh, great. Another student I want to have sex with.

These guys really have to stop wandering into the library looking fuckable.

Sigh. And this one's married, too. Even more out of reach than the usual.
redfirecracker: (Default)
So it's been how fucking long since I wrote in my journal?

And even longer since I wrote anything vaguely resembling 'something worth reading'?

Ugh.

I wonder if livejournaling was just a passing fad for me -- much the way I seem to be outgrowing my phase of squeeing fangirlishness. I'm not writing . . . I'm not even reading that much. I can't remember the last time I sat down and caught up on reading my friends entries -- actually, I just started five minutes ago. I have seven Netscape windows open, all containing links to stuff I want to read in detail later.

I lack follow-through. Always have. I am aware that this is something of a failure in my personality. My moods are changeable, my attention span short, and my patience shorter. I have an alarming tendency to withdraw from the world when I am feeling stressed or burned out, instead of trying to connect with it, and the people in it, in new and better ways.

This is not necessarily of the good.

The thing is . . . I get in a rut and I'm not entirely sure how to get out. Normally, I'd shop -- but I'm trying really hard to save money for a house, and I can't think of a single pair of shoes to buy that's worth a house.

Being permanently broke really sucks.

And, if you hadn't noticed, I go from horny to introspective in 3.54 seconds. :)
redfirecracker: (Default)
And in the spirit of trying to write something, anything . . . we bring you this snippet.

***************************************************

Lex had a scar on his lip.

Clark had never really noticed before, but then . . . he'd never spent quite so much time studying Lex before, either.

Lex's scar doesn't look like much, really. Just a line, almost down the center of his upper lip. It's not really the kind of thing anyone would notice, unless someone pointed it out.

Or if someone was *really* looking hard.

And Clark had been looking, probably a lot harder than he should, but even with all his gifts . . . he still wasn't seeing the kind of things he thought he should.

The things he thought he needed.

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