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the blank page stared at me like a blank. . .page. . .thingy can only stare. Blankly. I mean it doesn't have eyes to stare with just a huge blank rectangle.

"Yeah yeah, Yeah" cries the left side of my brain. "It's personification. They get it, ok?"

"lrhf;dlksa Colors!" mumbles the right half, unintelligible as always, but of course, it's sheer brilliance causes the head to turn in the direction of the window. Indeed, colors. Hey look. My troper page is white, my wall is green, apartments are white, then the green grass then the facing white apartments, then the green trees, then the white overcast sky! My life is stripey Glee!!!^_^

"Hoy, you're wasting time here." says the left half. the dog barks at absolutely nothing.

"Ok, so my life is stripey" butts in an emo thought. "Stripey like this prison you've made for yourself. Jobless, married, over 30, in debt from pursuing 3 degrees, none of which have netted me anything."

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm an artist and i suffer you know, I'm the martyr that nobody knows about. So, if I'm successful one, that's great, but if I fail, I am truly tragic. Either way I win.

"Yeah, yeah, drama llama. A martyr without fanbois is just a loser with a cause. Get over yourself.."

"Thank you o mighty superego. I thought I buried you seven years ago, mom"

"It was six. And a half. You're just addicted to the internet, face it, quit being lazy."

"Meh. When I get over myself perhaps I will.

WILL SOMEONE PLEASE PITY MEEE"

— crickets —

Fine. Go away, I don't care. I don't need your hugs or your hugboxes, or your hugsafes, or your hug bomb shelters —sniff—

At least I have this cool forum graphic which I made ALL BY MYSELF.

Besides. I've really got to finish a novel. Work on my design portfolio. Practice my Euphonium. Clean House. Look for a job. Get a Job. Feed the huz-B. Feed the dogs. Check the FB status. Shut up dogs! Look at that dead rosebush. I have to drain the water out of that pot.

Alastair from Dragon Age mumbles "Do this, Do that"

Meanwhile—-

"Hoy I'm hungry!''' little voice.

"Hey, Tuef, you hungry."

"Ooh gawd yeah. How'd you know?"

"Eh, I'm your wife. I just know."

No, how to pull of this page without looking like an MPD spaz? eh, whatever. I'll probably just wind up offending everyone anyways.

—-Vandalize Beneath Here—- ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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