I'm a fucking hacker-to-be, you'd THINK...

...that I would be able to manage PayPal.

If anyone knows how to pay for this using it, please tell me, 'cause I don't know how to do it. Or how to do money orders, so that's out too.

Yeah, I fail. But dammit, I'm gonna get my lilacs.

...I have a headache.

And a bad day, despite many good things happening.  I'm a born teacher, apparently.

But... just...

I'm too fucking tired for life right now.  Way too fucking tired.  And... just...

I had my escape methods, ya know? And those are currently mostly gone.  Except for about one, and I'm... I dunno. I may be able to scrape up a post or two tonight for Sonora.  But...

But.  I can't.  Maybe I'll work on Shia and Cel tonight. Even though I should be writing fucking pocverse. I can't handle it tonight, though. Because I'll write that patrol, and I can't deal with the nervous breakdown it would entail.

Why do things end?  Why do people die?

Is it just to balance an equation?