Diet Cola has no funny after taste in Heaven... (Thanks Jen)
I always expect the worst to happen. Always, always, always, always, ALWAYS. In fact, I make up sick, deluded, paranoid fantasies about the worst that can happen in hopes that it will prepare me.
Well, it doesn't because the worst thing NEVER happens.
Except some times it does.
Vegeta's dead. It's hard to write, even harder to say. I don't really want to talk about it. I'm really depressed- I mean, it was so sudden and it's not even like I got to say goodbye. He was such a young cat. I think I'll miss him forever- I certainly miss him right now. And I feel stupid about getting so broken up about a CAT- but I can't help it. I loved him so much.
And I really can't write about it. I'm a writer, I should really be... better at doing this, you know? But I'm not and that's not a problem. No one deals with death well. Not like I ever had any illusions that I did anyways. It's a bit strange, though. This isn't catapulting me into a depression- I'm just upset. With just cause and reason. I like real emotions. They feel... well, real.
Anyways, yeah. Sorry if I brought your day down. Life goes on and all that other crap people tell you and you tell yourself but don't really believe and ect.
(And thank you to all my friends who I called last night, in tears. You guys are the most wonderful friends any manic depressive teenaged outcast could ever hope for. The best friends ANYONE could ever hope for. Wow, do I get mushy when I'm upset or what?)
Well, it doesn't because the worst thing NEVER happens.
Except some times it does.
Vegeta's dead. It's hard to write, even harder to say. I don't really want to talk about it. I'm really depressed- I mean, it was so sudden and it's not even like I got to say goodbye. He was such a young cat. I think I'll miss him forever- I certainly miss him right now. And I feel stupid about getting so broken up about a CAT- but I can't help it. I loved him so much.
And I really can't write about it. I'm a writer, I should really be... better at doing this, you know? But I'm not and that's not a problem. No one deals with death well. Not like I ever had any illusions that I did anyways. It's a bit strange, though. This isn't catapulting me into a depression- I'm just upset. With just cause and reason. I like real emotions. They feel... well, real.
Anyways, yeah. Sorry if I brought your day down. Life goes on and all that other crap people tell you and you tell yourself but don't really believe and ect.
(And thank you to all my friends who I called last night, in tears. You guys are the most wonderful friends any manic depressive teenaged outcast could ever hope for. The best friends ANYONE could ever hope for. Wow, do I get mushy when I'm upset or what?)