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Kittens are leaving today this afternoon. I've had enough of them; tired of cleaning up after them, tired of having them destroy furniture and leave me mortified about the cleanliness of my home. Last night I came home to a "gift" on the couch cushion of the couch they've mostly destroyed, and that was the last straw. They're eating food, I don't have homes for them, so it's off to the Lakefield animal shelter with them today and it'll be done with. I feel slightly wretched about it, being a totally irresponsible and terrible person, but I can't keep these kittens anymore. I'll lose what's left of my mind. I hope someone with a lot of patience takes them home and loves them...like all things in my life, they are cute but evil.

Edit: It's done. LAWS was full...I had to take them to the Humane Society. I feel so bloody awful now. It felt terrible to be in there, and I left them there. I am a horrible person.

Bah. Lousy way to start a morning.

Saw Halo 2 yesterday. Looks shiny, but...they fucked with my favorite weapon, the pistol - you can't zoom in any more with it. Which screws me, because my eyesight is not good enough to let me track moving targets at distance. I have a very hard time just seeing video games, and shooting moving targets frequently eludes me. However, you can now blow up vehicles, which amuses me greatly. It doesn't much matter, really...I don't play the game often enough to really care, and it's certainly not aimed at making me happy.

I wish I'd gotten to sleep in today. Stupid kids upstairs. I really need more sleep. Oh well...I'll drug Cthulu and nap this afternoon. Gotta remember to cleanse my chakras at some point.

Ok...Morg is rambling. Morg goes now. (Now Morg waving?) Morg sucks.
-M.

no subject

I am the Queen of the empty spaces.
I see as far as black wings fly.
Crown me with blackthorn, crown me in withered roses,
drape about me a cloak of black and grey,
ringed in feathered collar.

Bring before me my spear, held high,
blackest red from the grip of fallen heroes.
Shall I stir the cauldron again,
summon them forth again to fight?
Royal is my right.

I sit upon my throne,
built of carnelian, of ash and bone,
of fear and regret and shadows.
I sing the slow, high chant of old
as I cursed them once before.

Come to me now,
I call you, the howling of wolves,
garnet blood from lips worm-eaten beautiful.
The ash trees clatter, wood turned ice,
and I laugh.