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People are gr8
beatles: hide your love
Just got off the phone with JM. I was calling mostly to check on him, as I'd seen Lester and Lime fairly recently, and kind of also to make him feel jealous of my sonic (Oh my god, you don't deserve a sonic, I AM AN ACTUAL DOCTOR, WHERE IS MY SONIC???). I really need to get over having a sonic screwdriver if I want to keep the friends I have.

Nobody likes a show-off, Swann. :))

Then again, the friends I have left me to be doctors. Everyone told me that taking Biology in the Philippines for research purposes would be a bit dicey, professionally, but not a single person mentioned the chronic loneliness after investing years of love in people destined to be doctors. It's kind of like developing a relationship with cattle, or insert animal for the slaughter. It is painful. It makes one bitter! Like quinine!

Anyhoo, it's raining again, and I've just had some deliciously lonely tea with my deliciously lonely cream puff, ugh, and really, this whole being alone in the house everyday thing is actually pretty ridiculous because it has driven me back to blogging, of all things. OF ALL THINGS. I managed absolutely little to no work today because I was sulking most of the day, like the mature adult my mother raised me to be.

I'm going to make up for it tonight. Or something, I don't know.

I know that I have a lot of friends, good friends even! But sometimes you want specific friends, like when you want a specific shoe or book for your mood and it chafes when you can't have it.

Like a physical craving.

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When You Need One for Every Season

I wish friends could be retrieved from a vending machine, like one of those vendible book machines (I love you Good Omens), but without the surprise factor. Then you can get one to match your mood at the push of a button.

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