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Why am I awake? Why can't I sleep? I have to be at work at 1pm. It's now... 05:30. I have had roughly four hours sleep in the last 24.
Why can't I sleep?!
Okay. Calm. If you're not calm you won't sleep.
Right. Cars being set fire to again. That was midnight-ish. When Slay finds out about that he'll go back into we-must-move-house-NOW mode; this is all very well, but we've let the place fall into disrepair and it needs a lot of work to make it saleable at all, let alone get a decent price for it. Plus I know he wants to isolate me from what family and friends I do have - not, I think, as deliberately or as calculatingly as that. I think he's just a man who has to be in control, and he can't control friends and family. So he wants them kept at a nice safe distance. I cannot, however, live like that.
*Frets*
Maybe that's it. Worry. Because I don't want to move. I actually quite like it here. So I'm living in the roughest part of town - so what? it's not Detroit. New York. London, even. Yes, we had two cars set fire to a couple of years ago. So did two other people in our road, and probably seventy or eighty across town. It was just something the gangs of teenagers thought was funny that summer.
I'm not saying I approve. Or even that I understand. Just that that is what it was, and every town has its problems. Running away doesn't help.
I'm fretting.
I should be writing. That's a bright spot; writing is going well. For all that what I'm writing is turning out a good deal darker than I at first imagined. Eddie makes one hell of an avenging angel, that's for damn sure.
Oh, and to cap it all, I managed to upset![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kraftpistole. I certainly didn't mean to. I thought I was engaging in lively debate - and what I was doing was hurting a very gentle soul who's becoming very dear to me as time goes on. This bothers me a very great deal.
Oh joy, and now I have a nosebleed. I really need to quit smoking again - my blood pressure must be through the roof.
Oh...joy.
Why can't I sleep?!
Okay. Calm. If you're not calm you won't sleep.
Right. Cars being set fire to again. That was midnight-ish. When Slay finds out about that he'll go back into we-must-move-house-NOW mode; this is all very well, but we've let the place fall into disrepair and it needs a lot of work to make it saleable at all, let alone get a decent price for it. Plus I know he wants to isolate me from what family and friends I do have - not, I think, as deliberately or as calculatingly as that. I think he's just a man who has to be in control, and he can't control friends and family. So he wants them kept at a nice safe distance. I cannot, however, live like that.
*Frets*
Maybe that's it. Worry. Because I don't want to move. I actually quite like it here. So I'm living in the roughest part of town - so what? it's not Detroit. New York. London, even. Yes, we had two cars set fire to a couple of years ago. So did two other people in our road, and probably seventy or eighty across town. It was just something the gangs of teenagers thought was funny that summer.
I'm not saying I approve. Or even that I understand. Just that that is what it was, and every town has its problems. Running away doesn't help.
I'm fretting.
I should be writing. That's a bright spot; writing is going well. For all that what I'm writing is turning out a good deal darker than I at first imagined. Eddie makes one hell of an avenging angel, that's for damn sure.
Oh, and to cap it all, I managed to upset
kraftpistole. I certainly didn't mean to. I thought I was engaging in lively debate - and what I was doing was hurting a very gentle soul who's becoming very dear to me as time goes on. This bothers me a very great deal.Oh joy, and now I have a nosebleed. I really need to quit smoking again - my blood pressure must be through the roof.
Oh...joy.
