Had some thoughts I wanted to put to paper. Screen? Words.

I don’t know.

We were raiding. In WoW. I decided I don’t care much for video games. I know we both like watching TV and being stagnant, but I don’t think games are for me. I know I can get loud, though.

I’m also an ungracious loser. I know I’m also an okay loser, but that’s not me, personally. Split it in half and I’m the part that wants to tear the victor’s eyes out while the other is very c’est la vie. Maybe that doesn’t make sense as with enough losing most anyone would become irate. But some part presses on and I just want to punch a screen.

I’m reminded that we do have anger issues. As far as I know, we’ve never taken them out on anyone, but we do reach frustration fast. I can’t tell if I’m the exasperation or the strange calm. Probably the unbridled frustration judging by my inability to cope with adversity. The other half considers adversity a challenge. They go looking for it. I’d rather not. I don’t want stress. We’ve had enough.

Oh but some stress is better than others!

Some stress is better!

No. No stress. None. Couch, food, bed, sleep. Gamer chairs kinda suck anyway. This new one barely reclines and has no footrest. I regret throwing the other one away, but we couldn’t have two. What about that person moving in with us? Maybe they’d like it.

I’m reminded it was falling apart.

Everything falls apart. Hence the ignoble wobbling to the kitchen to collect our burned pot pie. Its sitting there, charred at the edges, crust stabbed by a plastic fork, outgassing that chicken-y smell I like.

Sometimes I wish we could tolerate chewing on bones and tendons but alas we gag and immediately stop eating when we come in contact with such uncouth substances. No surprises, I can vibe with that, as the kids say. If its supposed to be mushy it better not have crunch. Makes sense. I just wish we could be a ravenous animal incapable of deciphering friend from food. Or was it foe?

Everything is meat anyway.

The cat is here. She is very insistent on affection.

I suppose we should give it to her.

When I said I was Tavorie once, that was true. Except we swapped places. They became real and I became the backseat driver. Just floating here with nasty thoughts and cruel intentions.

Maybe it wouldn’t be that way if I wasn’t so awful.

Maybe I wouldn’t be so awful if I wasn’t this way.

Sometimes I wish we could just go smell some flowers and fall asleep on the grass.

But there’s bugs in the grass and now we’re sensitive to the slightest sensation of being touched by crawling things. I just erased a sentence I know we’d regret.

It’s easy to just let the frontal cortex zone out and the amygdala feel its feelings.

Obviously, its not writing, I’m not that stupid. OBVIOUSLY my cortex is still functioning, but come on. It makes sense. Just fading the front away and letting the words flow. Honestly, I’m uncertain there’s a single thought among these words. Just whatever I’m feeling and I don’t get to be outward very much.

I’m just a little angry voice.

A sad… little voice.

The cat is here. She knows we’re upset. She has her head on our wrist and her butt is firmly planted on the mouse. We have like three more raids to do, so says us. Not sure we’ll do it because bed sounds nice.

Gotta at least eat the pie.

While it’s still hot…

While I’m still hungry.

Before the cat and I fall asleep.

She’s warm and soft.

I think I like her.