cimorene

it's odd, gray and overcast. it may snow tomorrow (my birthday! so weirdly. everything feels weird). jenny has gone out and i got online to check my e-mail. now i feel like reading slash but i don't know what to read. i also feel like writing, but i don't know what to write.

i'm still struggling with karggo's manly-yet-gay camping adventure. i didn't bring a draft with me, actually. perhaps i should have. if someone i sent it to has it lying around could they mail it back to me--cimorene111 at livejournal dot com?

i'm hot, but my feet are cold. my face is prickly and my left eye stings like i've got something in it, but i don't know what. i've never been anywhere with air this dry. it saps the strength. it makes my hands and feet feel like brittle paper.

i feel--so strange.