I had a dream last night that I was sharing a hotel room with a suicide cult that was taking turns hanging themselves from the balcony. They asked me if I wanted to join them and I said no thanks, maybe next time, and they all laughed. For some reason the rope was too long and they ended up falling three stories before they broke their necks, and everything was very quiet. At the end of the dream I remember thinking that they looked like these wind chimes that my mom had, just sort of swaying there in front of the trashy porch furniture in their different-colored shirts, and then hoping no one knew I'd been there.

I'm killing my livejournal.

Mostly in an attempt to encourage myself to actually start writing stuff that matters in real life.

Yep.
So...
Bye.