three months in and I'm growing increasingly silent. three months in and I have no report to give other than I "insufficient data". Please stand by. Lack of will, lack of might, with small and random burst of irrational energy... no, not quite energy, but more so a frantic, spastic erruption here and there whenever the walls move in too close (well, that's always, isn't it? but sometimes they get to the point where I've got every limb folded in, including neck and toes and fingers, even eyelashes, though they be not limbs...) Even my back hurts perpetually... wait, this is not supposed to be some rant-fest. rewind. just purging, I suppose...

Hungarians are odd creatures.
let me just leave it at that for now. In a way, I do fit in, in a way I absolutely do not. Nice job, woman - you've tossed yourself into quite the pile mess here, haven't you? neither here nor there... see, this is why I cannot bare to speak, to write, to do anything.. because the very tangible manifestation of my own thoughts is so damn misguided and misrepresentative.. I've lost something. I'll have to return once I find it. or, at the least, once I've detected the stench and can follow it to a relatively locatable place. ugh.

let's go out and play frisbee, sy.

[ed] - passion. I smell the foul putrid stench of decomposing passion. but that's not news, now is it?

rabbits have no business being chaste.