Yeah. I like skyping bloggers even though it’s terrifying initially…. until it’s not xD If you want to skype me, send me your Skype name at my Twitter account (you have to tell me where your blog is too :P). Or reach me at email@example.com. OK, Strangers? I need practice with talking. Talking on the phone freaks me out and that kind of excites me. How horrifyingly-exshiyting.
I solicit my brain to remember the word “solicit” because it sounds posh. “Posh” is posh. Humdidum. I am geek. I am Mon. I am Mon-star.
I am bored.
You know I have a bunch of “prompt-words” to prompt me into writing. The underlined ones are specially prompt-y. After you see through the list, you might get why some posts are….a certain way 😀
- kicks up
- in hot pursuit of
- crashed out
- attempt conversing
- in some way, shape, or form
Yep 😀 They prompt me and they so posh! I vacillate a lot from trying to sound “post” to “geek”. I like “funny” and “geek” though. But I don’t mind a little posh. Poshatical!
I tip over my head a lot. If you have a mental illness, like me, you might get the pun. Might.
You know, I like humor a lot. It helps me to accept the unlikable traits I have. It helps me to find the comedy in things. It’s a coping mechanism. Humor makes things better, IMO. I try to foster my creativity in a way that it is boisterous but silly at the same time. Just like me.I hate to admit the “boisterous” part, but only to those I am really close to, like my bloggy-baby-waby-muchies-peaches!
My motivation for study isn’t kicking up much. The anxiety got to me a little.
My marriage with myself broke down a little because of the anxiety. It will get better. It always does. It goes downhill, but it goes uphill-y later. It’s obvious I am not exactly feeling enamored with myself when there’s this ball of anxiety around my chest and neck. I have been ingesting my pills and they are keeping me a wittle sane. A wittle.
I am an obstinate writer. Even after writing all this, and this one being my fourth post of the day *Face-palm* I just don’t feel like I have properly vented. Mon-star, come back you monster!
I feel anxious. A little less than before. But I still do. My eyes feel pressure. I breathe a little shallow at times, and switch to deep breathing when I remember to. Sometimes being funny doesn’t help me a 100%, it helps me a 30% now. But now as good as I do when I write silly things. Great, this post isn’t silly anymore. *Double face-palm*
Image by Paul Militaru