✂ - A message my muse wrote after not having written for a while, possibly because they lost the journal or because they have been busy with other things. (Feel free to include part of the previous entry for perspective.)
I don’t think I’m as equipped to live here as I thought I was. It’s not so much the mobility thing—between Tesla and the fact that this studio apartment is pretty damned tiny, I’m not having much trouble finding my way around.
No, it’s more the whole living alone thing that’s been getting on my nerves lately. It’s too quiet. Tesla’s the only thing that makes any noise in this place, and even he is probably the quietest living thing I’ve ever met in my life. And I deal with a lot of corpses in my line of work. I have a few methods to help, though. I keep music playing a lot, for one thing. And I sleep with the TV on. That one’s kinda more embarrassing, but hey, it’s not like anyone’ll ever read this anyways. They help me cope. With what, exactly? Hah. If only I had that many pages of this damned thing left.
Anyways, I’m pretty much done unpacking my stuff; Mark and Miles were a hell of a lot of help too, and I found this old thing at the bottom of my senior year backpack. I was supposed to turn this journal in to my Creative Writing teacher back in like, April.
Whatever, he totally curved the final anyways.







