I am fairly certain that when one's fingernails start to turn blue, it is not a good thing. But I could be wrong.
Head is stuffy. Not a headache, quite. Almost like sinus pressure. Hrm.
Well. I have absolutely no drive to work on ML ever again. Nor any of the others. Feh. I don't think I'll quit. My creative drive has highs and lows - more and more often lows of late - but it should kick back in eventually. Maybe. I dunno anymore.
Second Arrival and Lotoae sit, neglected. I can remember when they fascinated me. Now... eh. Don't care. Just words on the computer screen and worthless scribbles on pieces of paper. I suppose the only thing that stops me from dropping art altogether is that it's been tied to my existence for so long that I'm somewhat afraid I will cease to be without it there to define me.
"This is Jenni, the one who draws."
"This is Jenni, she's got that comic."
"This is Jenni, the artist."
"This is Jenni - show them your sketchbook, Jenni."
Take away the art.
"This is... um... what's your name, again?"
Maybe that would be better all around.
Every day Mike walks by while I'm in this class and mocks me. *crouches and readies brick*
You were female in your last earthly incarnation.
You were born somewhere around the territory of what is now know as modern Tailand, approximately in the year 700.
Your profession was: monk, bee-keeper, lone gunman.
A brief psychological profile of you in that past life:
Inquisitive, inventive, liked to get to the very bottom of things and to rummage in books. Talent for drama, natural born actor.
A lesson that your last past life wishes you to learn in your present life is:
Your lesson -- to learn discretion and reasonability and then teach others to do that. Your life will be happier, when you help those who lack reasoning.
do you remember?