WORTH 50,000: DAY TWENTY-EIGHT - Break apart as vapor.

Last night I wrote more terrible stuff. Man, writing terrible stuff feels so hard. Writing good stuff feels so easy. THOSE THINGS SHOULD BE SWITCHED. Or at least I should figure out how to only write good things. It would help with the time factor. And maybe keep me from posting stupid shit to Tumblr. Okay, maybe not. My last sentence from last night is already on Tumblr: How can I trust you with all the pieces of me when I know that if I fall apart you won’t know how to put them back together?

Today's picture is brought to you by mcwonthelottery who saw it and thought of me. I have you all trained so well. *rubs hands together evily* We're in the home stretch now. Is there something you're waiting to come apart?


[Source.]


Apropos of nothing, I need to remember that scene I thought of late last night so I can write it out. The one with the burnt red cravat and the black gloves and the diamonds falling from the sky. And I need to remember I want to try and write up a post about the adverse affects of fandom on modern media. And I need to not watch Teen Wolf, not matter what Sara says. :p