~~maybe, maybe not.

saber's `above average' was a yummy thing to wake up to. see, it pays to lurk in people's journals, ahahaha. you get a lot of spam, but, eventually.... eventually..... yah. you get schmoopy!draco, ahahaha. yes, i'm a sad, sad girl. this is really sad. of course, what's more sad? liking evil bastards or schmoopy evil bastards??

... yeah.

i don't know. i mean, i talk the talk, obviously, but damn if i don't walk the walk. i often think my penchant for cuteness is likely to melt down my brain and ruin my life. i mean, it's possible, right. too much cuteness, overload, death? i envy the people who only like the things that enrich them spiritually and intellectually. the "worthwhile" things. the "deep" people. you know, those people that aren't me.

ok, no, i don't envy them. aren't they really grumpy? i mean, it's a sexy sort of grumpy, but do i want to be that grumpy? i'm already plenty grumpy, aren't i? i used to think i was goth at heart, ahahahahah. ok, that just sounds really funny. because, you know, no goth would be caught dead enjoying a ficlet like that. it's extremely ungothy. i would be betraying the gothy gods. i would be a shame. shamefully pink. yes. pink. and i -hate- pink. i do. no, really! i hate it! really! i'm telling you! it's true! i'm ... i'm... i'm all about the pain! the pain! guh! gimme pain! ok, no.

... i disturb myself.

honestly, i don't like pain. or doom. or death. or despair. ok, maybe death. she's so cute though. how can i -not- like her? she's adorable! ok, see, there i go again, with the adorable. though, despair sort of reminds me of me. i mean, i act halfway like despair and halfway like delirium. though i'd like to pretend i'm dream, but i'm not. dammit. i am a plebe. maybe i just say i'm not because i'm never "the cool one", the worshipfully gorgeous one. maybe i only say i'm like despair because she is fat and ugly and sad. i mean, that's not a large common ground, really. despair is where i go when there's no place lower-- naturally. dream and despair aren't all that different. dream just has his ability to create, while despair lacks it. delirium is also despair, with the ability to create, but only uncontrolled.

maybe joy-- delight-- is simply part of that chaos, before the despair comes. dream is like, focused creativity, where you build things and you mold things and you change things without changing yourself, although perhaps those things you create are always a reflection of you to start with; he changes with the world and vice versa. but delirium can't change any other way, and embodies her own creativity directly. despair can't change at all, or even conceive of it for that matter. desire has two faces, never changing and none of them true. destruction could only change once himself, but he affects change in a direct, anti-creative manner. destiny doesn't create and is not created. destiny only watches. death comes to clean up at the end.

i used to think hedonism was the One True Philosophy. i had a revelation, when i was 15 or so. pleasure, i realized, was the Ultimate Good. follow your bliss, and so on. i mean, not to the point of delusion. this is where the drugs come in, isn't it. and the eating disorders. and the compulsive tv-watching. and the pretending you can fly and leaping out the window. something like that. sigh.

maybe, i thought, things can happen based solely on dream and desire. maybe things can be spontaneously created, just like magic. untraceable factors come together, and change is born. it was always waiting, and then it stops and -becomes-. love can just suddenly pop into existence, like the way a cloud passes the sun, a gust of wind blows a leaf into your face, like the way you say the wrong thing, but it's not, it's the right thing. i know all about what can't happen, and how things die, and how it's impossible 6 ways from sunday. but i don't really know what's possible at all.