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You want me to talk about my monsters? Really? Do you even have any idea?

How scared I am.

How tightly I keep my fists clenched.
At. All. Times.

I mean, apart from anything else, you are just far too nice. (and you thought you were angry at me before?)

And as for you, you bastard… But then, you cursed me with always being able to see the opposite point of view. And you know how I hate to look ridiculous. One has to admire your sense of humour, if nothing else. And pathos.


Sleep now. The wind is out of my sails. The rage is pacified for the moment.

Tomorrow is another day.



  1. Still can’t sleep though. Bugger.

  2. Attaboy Linus. That’s the spirit. I hope you managed to get a bit of sleep in the end.

    Oh, and Linus’ monsters: nice try. Now kindly go fuck yourselves.

    All my love,


  3. Thank you. That is very, very kind of you.

    • So. Can I ask what you’re scared of? Or is that a later installment?

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