cheer me the fuck up. kittens in the comments. i am accepting offers of kind comments on my writing, poetry, and clever compliments as well. i have no shame, nor do i have any particular aversion to wildly told lies. i don't feel well. fetch. *seethe*

Author: Marika Kailaya
Title: The Safeword is Oedipus
'Verse: Nagekawashii; LD
Challenge: Rum Raisin: 1. mother
Toppings/Extras: Chopped Nuts
Wordcount: 815
Rating: PG-13
A/N: oh god a high school AU.

( Shut up. I am in class. Achieve not texting me in class anymore. )

sometimes when i watch the news all i can see is: OH GOD the republicans are off their meds again, or OH GOD the tea party's off their meds again, or OH GOD the straight people are off their fucking meds again, and just endless OH LAWDY SOMEONE DONE LET THE CHRISTIANS OUT OF THEIR CHURCHES AGAIN (hey, it wasn't me! i've done good deeds in my life so that when i touch the key it burns my pure flesh). i have no non-ableist or non-offensive commentary and i wouldn't be brave enough to ask me for any. i sincerely hope no one is that brave, that'd just be stupid as hell.

also, that maurice sendak died, i saw that. i really, really, really treasured his books growing up. i treasured them last year, and now. i say treasure because books are my treasures, i think. they are what i will bury and hoard and love, and i thought his were some of the best, so it made me sad when he went.

that's what really gets to me.

it's not the total end of the world via, say, mitt romney and the truly classically white people i am fortunate enough to have on my facebook feed but the endings of artists, that saddens me most.

camp nanowrimo is up next month. i shall as ever be tacking another 50k onto ld until it is finished. also i applied for school but i can't say where. it's not a big deal, i'm just so

fucking

bored. i'm just getting a degree in education. it will kill time and maybe make people respect me.

i'm feasibly wearing a cute shirt but i think it makes me look a skank. a disapproving, mean, angry skank who genuinely hates everyone. not really a skank. idk i got it from my sister because she's literally wasting away from a horrific disease while i subtly gain weight from depression. (i am in the triple digits on account of sleeping 14 hours every day! scandalous. i guess crying all the time doesn't shed pounds, ladies, take note. i look almost healthy, i am informed by my grandmother. my mother says i look fat and need to stop eating, as i am just so obese at a whopping 110lbs with heavy sneakers on. um. because she's on more drugs than that i can't really trust that judgement?)

i want to go somewhere really, really far away, all alone, where nobody knows me. that's all.

today i woke up at noon with a horrific migraine to realize i'd missed my 8:45 appt with my psychiatrist. i proceeded to reschedule it, call another doctor about a refill, and set another appointment entirely in order before drugging myself senseless and sleeping until 8PM.

upon waking, i realize, with very heavy limbs but with a lesser headache (only the soreness that comes from having the blood vessels in your brain ravaged!): my house is an actual wreck. not the kind of wreck this particular OCD patient, housekeeping-magazine-reader usually says it is; the kind of wreck other people claim their houses to be that make me not want to go into other people's houses because i think i will get an infection. all the dishes are dirty, LITERALLY FUCKING ALL OF THEM i cannot even make A CUP OF TEA. the carpets are sad. the bed is unmade. the cat-box needs cleaning. the countertops have...stuff just--stuck? to them. probably ants too, i wish i were making that up. i need to sweep AND mop AND clean my desk AND PUT AWAY MY MOTHERFUCKING LAUNDRY. the COUCHES that also need vacuuming are a mess of ANTIQUE BOOKS and FUZZY BLANKETS. that's the kind of mess i make, for the record (there are harry potter books all over my bed). *CRANKY*

AND MY KITCHEN TABLE IS COVERED IN FINANCIAL PAPERWORK AND LEATHER-SCENTED CANDLES

wtvs. i'm going to my brother's. i can make tea at his house and he just promised to take me somewhere to get some food. clean my fuckin' house tomorrow. I AM SO SAD.

this post has NOTHING WHATSOEVVER TO DO WITH CHI YUKU well except that his couch also has fuzzy blankets and antique books i am using this icon because i i accidentally clicked on it and frankly i want to hug it. tip: don't actually hug him. he gives weird hugs. he does give hugs, but they are weird and scary because you can feel all the metal bits clanking around inside his jacket and some of them are sharp and tbh it's frightening because you have the sneaking suspicion at any moment he could and would kill you. cuddles!

no wait speaking of cuddles

couple nights ago i got into a group hug with some well-dressed over-perfumed elderly people outside of ihop around 3AM and it was pretty smelly. they asked me for a hug so i came springing at them. it was because previously they had seen me in a HUG MOSH PIT!!! with my actual friends, all of whom were VERY DRUNK ok. so i hugged the other people, i was wearing an MCR shirt and covered in marker drawings and had chocolate on my face. =(

i think i'm done.

NO WAIT

speaking of

chocolate...

jim, right, we went camping and jim ate a tuber. it was a pine tree root. i'll just...c&p.
jim dig a root from the ground, wrapped it in foil, and cooked it over the campfire. "it's a TUBER. that's a root vegetable, right?"
he began to nibble on it. "i think it's not cooked enough." he spread it apart, as it was mushy from cooking. "i think it's a pine root."
then he tossed it into the pine forest we were camping in.
http://j.mp/ItD7uM then we really did eat these, and this http://j.mp/ItDbdZ =(
we had no bread or plates (or seasoning, come to that) so we put the eggs and bacon on the buns for the hamburgers that gave us all diarrhea
only marcus dropped his hamburger bun on the ground near where he and casey had peed but ate it anyway CAMPING IS A PROBLEM, KIND OF

flist, i just made chocolate chip cookies with molten dove chocolate filling.

i made two batches but tbh i wouldn't actually eat more than one in a week. they're kind of diabetes in a single cookie. recipe here.

oh my i went rock-climbing on sunday. the day prior i fucked up my knee but went anyway. it has gone badly for me as yesterday i curled up at my brother's house in the event i needed a hasty hospital trip. i am still properly bruised.

( pictures as snagged from facebook )

then today, i...got probably the worst haircut i will ever get. it looks a bit like this, tied down with a flower clip and supplemented with nice earrings. i don't know why i always put Bitchface on in photos but it's not very becoming and i could not photograph myself straight on because it is THAT TIME OF THE MONTH and naturally i have a zit on my chin that can never see the light of day fuck you all.

it'll grow back.

honestly, though, why do i let drug addicts cut my hair this has to stop. "mm. shave your neck." "with WHAT?" "*produces cheap-ass motherfucking disposable razor, I AM ON DISABILITY AND I DON'T BUY RAZORS LIKE THAT BECAUSE I ENJOY HAVING FLESH*"

i now own a massive cameo ring which is fairly delightful; i also own a carton of strawberries and a can of whipped cream and you see if either of those things last 'til tomorrow.

since january i've been failing to write, neglecting to eat, and sleeping for 14 hours at a time. i'm not sure that's good, somehow. also my disability review is coming up, ooh, gosh, this month and it's pretty daunting.

i have sent an application to the only school currently available to me. one degree is as good as another and it's cheap, so it's not like i'll be paying it off for years. i can go to a better school later. i'm just so bored, and so tired. i can't really think of anything worth doing. mm. every month of 2011 has at least one fic post, mostly at least 5. and even january of 2012 had a lot, before the thing. i think the constant sleeping is not really very clever on my part because of all the nightmares. if i were that bothered by them i'd really stop sleeping and do something productive but i seem to like the horrible abuse at the hands of my subconscious. current topics: snakes (i usually LIKE snakes), my father being ill (he isn't!), and the nightly dreams about my grandfather.

it could be worse. there's always cancer.

bed now. bed very appealing.

*that's why we're having difficulties going camping this weekend. because SOMEONE traded the TENT for METH. HONESTLY. "*FURIOUS* did you at least get a lot of meth?" "ohhhh yeah."

Author: Marika Kailaya
Title: how we danced, you and i
'Verse: Nagekawashii; MeYu
Challenge: Sangria: 21. Long is the way And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light. - John Milton
Toppings/Extras: N/A
Wordcount: 583
Rating: PG-13
A/N: i imagine this is set shortly before the end. um. you know. before they, uh, killed themselves and set half the country on fire for revenge. this is a bit surreal, is that a warning?

( The world becomes brighter, when you become less an inhabitant of it. )

Author: Marika Kailaya
Title: baby, try not to crash
'Verse: Nagekawashii; MeYu
Challenge: Sangria: 23. This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper. - TS Eliot
Toppings/Extras: Chopped Nuts: Mortal Men AU
Wordcount: 311
Rating: PG-13
A/N: in this AU, the librarian & his novelist are utterly human and meet raizu later than they do in the actual 'verse and still manage to destroy everything. i also decided to make raizu not be their catalyst but rather their victim! i gave her a house! and a FAMILY. then she gets eated by them because apparently you don't have to be demons or be proteges of a 17-year-old crackwhore to be horrible people.

( The world ends in a clean little house in a rural neighborhood in 1989. )

today i'm avoiding seeing people IRL because i can't move and am in excruciating, obvious pain. 100% of the time i am in excruciating pain because i have an incurable disease that causes excruciating pain and limited movement, but i have gotten so amazingly adept at hiding it that everyone i know has forgotten exactly how miserable i am and makes weird and upsetting comments every time they notice ("HURR DURR DURR DERP DERP I'M A FUCKING IDIOT AND YOU SEEM TO BE HAVING DIFFICULTIES, WHY WHY WHY WHY IS THAT I HAVE NO CLUE I HAVE NO IDEA WHY WHY WHY IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU I DON'T UNDERSTAND MY I.Q. IS LITERALLY AT THE ABSOLUTE BOTTOM OF THE SCALE"), so whenever it's too nasty for me to get off the couch/out of bed/etc i just stay home.

if someone has the balls to drop by unannounced it's going to be unforgivable. i am in my pajamas and i am slightly banged up from multiple tumbles trying to get around my house; by god if that doorbell rings i am answering with my gun. =|

but i've realized something. the only thing anyone can ever possibly say about me that even comes close to upsetting me is when they remark in any way on the fact that i am disabled. it's a big black no-no button that thoroughly and forever taints people; if you talk to me about my disability or mention it in any way, i will not forgive you or look at you the same. i will still hang out with you. i will probably still like you. but you will always still be less than human to me. i will remember that one time you bothered me and it'll make me think yappy fucking bitch dog when i see you, and a great deal of the things i say to you will come out as biting because a very large part of me wants to see you torn apart in the streets, you son of a bitch. basically. and if you ever make fun of the fact that i am crippled, i will probably beat you up right then and there and that'll be the end of me ever being truly kind to you again. there are a lot of people still in my life i go to lengths to harm, because they made fun of me being sick once or twice.

anyway the point is everyone i know IRL are pretty fucking special and i hate all of them most of the time but especially when i can't pretend that i'm healthy and have to be very, very, very secretive. i'll be honest, lj, i am literally surrounded by idiots. i can't possibly have a lower opinion of the people i associate with or am related to with regards to Me Being Ill. i know there are some really good-hearted snfklhsfjksafhs whatever crips out there who are like blah blah i wouldn't wish this disease on anyone

but i have been called heartless countless times and to be frank it didn't really concern me; i would wish my illness on all of them.

aaaaaand, at last, these are stars that have poetry handwritten on them.

that is what i do with my time. no you cannot have them.

a green and gold glass necklace with swarovski crystals, freshwater pearls, and a gold filigree locket.

a ( deep red and black and gold glass glasses chain i made FOR MYSELF NOT FOR YOU IT'S MINE, including a picture of me looking friendly! )

and pink iced thumbprint cookies, featuring pecan chips (toasted with butter), a great deal of...butter itself in the cookies (hint: they're butter cookies), and icing that is literally nothing but POWDERED SUGAR AND MILK (and food dye), that i made for my grandmother!

oh, and because i just saw the pictures and don't know if i ever posted them here:
( a very lovely little necklace i made for my friend birdie! )

do you ever just want to move to, um, *looks* new mexico or oklahoma or something and ditch all of your family and friends or at least most of them permanently and start your life over, possibly with a complete identity change? like a witness protection program only without anything to run from and this question is ummm rhetorical. *gnaws sun chips* we're actually talking about me, not you. and by ever i mean just all the time. you just want to escape all the people you know, all the time. or most of them. well, some of them. welllll your family at least. maybe 30% of your friends? *squints* i say friends, i mean like 10% of your friends and then maybe another 30% of your vague acquaintances, but i can't imagine the shitheads i'd get involved with in santa fe.

i think this is all a metaphor for my unfulfilled desire to buy $200 tea. or it could be that it's summer-ish, and i hate summer. there's no spring. there's summer, and tornado season. in between it's the kind of warm where you can lie on your back porch, for a couple weeks. that's the bit i like. we're past that bit. it's 90F now. i will be brokenhearted when i do acquire potted ivy and it's 90F and i have to go out and prune my ivy. can you get deadly nightshade as a houseplant? how much did i really watch the addams family when i was wee that i want deadly nightshade? it's only, i still look like wednesday and i'd hoped to have matured into morticia by now. I HAVE A HOUSE WITH A YARD. COME ON.

i! was supposed to have made a follow-up with my PCP after the ER trip due to the laughing, but i have been EPICALLY BUSY watching korean soap operas. also i simply cannot be bothered with my PCP. i will go to him: "hola! i was in the ER and had to have a brain scan!" "well that's terrible. we should really do something. this is awful. you could cause serious brain damage at this rate." twenty four hours later i'm still sittin in his fuckin office, really?

recently i had to throw candles at my cat. *mild* he was biting me. the candles didn't break. the cat didn't stop biting me, either.

meyu 'verse:
( the day you died i lost my way; the day you died i lost my mind )

( tell your daughters, do not walk the streets alone tonight )

this is not a 'verse:
( i can bring you back to life, kid )

Author: Marika Kailaya
Title: matchstick children
'Verse: Nagekawashii; BTS
Challenge: Rum Raisin: 11. messenger; Sangria: 14. Into each life some rain must fall - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Toppings/Extras: N/A
Wordcount: 928
Rating: PG-13
A/N: N/A

( 'Sangmin is burning again.' )

i bought a pair of white shoes specifically to draw on.



( click to enlarge! )

also i landed myself in the hospital from laughing too hard and every word of that is true. i gave myself such a severe migraine (too much movement of diseased jaws leading to headache) from a bit of an interesting weekend that i had to go get an injection and a brain scan and there was a woman with a stump and i couldn't see she had a stump because i wasn't wearing any glasses and all of this is true and it's all because matthew hammond said hey why don't we drive thirty miles at two in the morning on saint patrick's day to get doughnuts.

you might specify which one. *cranky* i want to know which one.

generally, tho, i'm after one thing and one thing only and that's to know why so many maggot-infested, crispy-cooter'd, incestuous, alcholic, snake-haired, oops i destroyed the universe OOPS ALL MY CHILDREN ARE DEAD gods haven't considered rehab.

because all of them

as far as i can

are on drugs.

probably the same ones my dad were on the time he escaped from the mental institution in atlanta in the luggage of a greyhound bus and nearly died and still thought it was overall a good idea. (and you notice all the religious texts are full of gods drinkin' to overkill and i mean hell there's plenty of gods *devoted* to drinking *and* to other delicious substances, i am just saying).

( because. )

what will probably happen in the next twenty minutes:
--i will brush my hair, yes, and make a pot of coffee! i will have diarrhea from the milk cheerfully, and then

i will do my nails.

i won't even clean the litterbox first. and i am really only using the Mal Behind The Curtain icon because liza gave me fun. and it gives me unusually emotional emotions and i feel it's completely relevant. obv.

i'll probably also watch maurice again. i do wonder how it's noon and i've not made coffee yet, though. i blame all the injuries. TA TA.

story time with my father:

"but the scariest hallucination i ever had was them ol' dogs! when i was mixin' that good thorazine and whiskey, every single NIGHT those dogs would come for me, and they'd tear out my guts and they'd rip up all my skin and howl their lungs out and blood would be everywhere and the pain--and i couldn't do shit but lay there on the ground while they ate at me. and it would happen every single night! of course the cure for my wounds, once they had left--i'd mix up some more thorazine and whiskey and down it. haha! i reckon that was about the first time they ever came and took me to milledgeville, georgia."

currently battling nasty cold with vicious strep-like throat infection with aid of tylenol severe cold, delsym, and theraflu. have gone to dr after 5 days of this battle to find out exactly what i was battling, er.

my head weighs five billion pounds.

i hate my stupid life.

Title: Lap Dog
Author: Marika Kailaya
Chapter: 45
Rating: R
Word Count: 8086

( These harmless, wrinkled fingers did not want to wrap themselves around Ijirashii's neck. )