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Scraps from today:

Quorn fajitas, pretty and delicious enough to send anybody up to food heaven.

Demonic plotting to scrump soft fruit.

Even more wonderful stolen.

Even more wonderful stolen.

Camille O’Sullivan heart-wrecked and wicked as dark chocolate:

Camille O’Sullivan makes heartbreak more wonderful than hot baths, and twice as necessary. After last term, I have been avoiding sad songs; sad movies: anything which would crack my thin skin into pieces immediately.

Dropping your basket once makes you loth to drop it again, even momentarily.

But I miss it.

I miss hot tears down my face whilst smiling over the last seconds of a sad song, or watching credits roll too wracked with grief to move. One could argue that the key is simply a little moderation. Not so much commitment to every moment, not such a willingness to suspend disbelief. But that is what I am good at, fantasy and magic.

I am beginning to think heartbreaking art in moderation. Medicinal pain: recuperation into using my full emotional spectrum. Or, perhaps, its autumn and autumn is for sap falling and long considerations. Or, of course, this could just be pmt…

Finally setting my room up -albeit minus all of my shoes. I am trying hard not to panic, but I think they might have been swallowed by College’s shadowy forgetfulness – and having soft light, soft fabric, and a paper thin shell lampshade curiously built to withhold all cruel forces.

I am off to bed now, wrapped around whiskey and a pretty bloody marvelous game of articulate.

Goodnight.

– but first, this is both terrifyingly bad and very, very, very sweet. And poisonously catchy. And you really aren’t meant to like cute things with cute animations UNTIL YOU HAVE A CHILD. However, isn’t this SWEET SWEET SWEET!!!

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