Would you like fries with your internal squeeing?

One

        I gave away almost all of my clothes in a fit of change, and now have no jumpers, only one over-sized ugly but warm coat, four black t-shirts and one brown t-shirt that are a tad too small, absolutely NO jeans, one fake-leather leggings that are so peeled and worn it's criminal and cannot be worn out in public unless I'm in one of my The-World-Can-Get-Fucked moods, two pairs of elastic work pants, a range of dresses that neither fit me nor inspire any confidence in me to actually wear, two pairs of shorts: one new and amazing, one old, small, and paint-stained, a bunch of skirts that are two sizes too small allowing my love-handles to spill over the sides in an unflattering way, and a bunch of out-dated work shirts that need to be ironed after washing, even though the iron never ever ever ever gets all the creases out.

Two

       I entered my room this morning in a fit of I WILL CHANGE MY WHOLE ROOM BUT WITHOUT ACTUALLY MOVING ANY FURNITURE BECAUSE I PHYSICALLY AND LOGISTICALLY CAN'T, but then sat down and searched pinterest for over an hour and realised I desperately need to go vegan and eat gut-pleasing foods.

Three

       Because of being poor, during the course of my short life I have hardly thrown out any of my accumulated possessions. It's recently become quite a burden in the sense that I am stuck in the past whenever I open a drawer or pull out a box. I need to fix this! But I have this clenched up vault door that creaks in alarm and protest whenever I decide to have a clean out. It says 'NO, you treacherous man-child! Keep all these items for ONE DAY you will surely need them, and then ON THAT DAY, you will curse the heavens and I will have to listen to your damn lamenting as if you had suddenly become a baby lamb. BLEAT NOT, HUMAN SLUG, JUST SETTLE AND GO ON WITH YOUR DAILY LAME.'

To which I will understandably reply: 'Um... what?' and also: 'Man child?'

Four

       But I desperately need to update my wardrobe- or just buy ONE other pair of pants for the love of god- and I do need more of other things, like crystals, and incense, and fairy statues, and basically anything and everything from a magickal shop. When I have these things, I can then become the super woman that I have always dreamed of becoming where I don't lounge around all day eating bags of chips in my torn up fake leather pants and over-sized adult shirt for men, watching iZombie and Horror Houses in grim satisfaction, admiring my plant garden and birds pecking at the lawn at intervals, and generally running around in mad panic when I have to do anything seriously adult like grocery shopping or go to work.

Five

       The mess of life is severely underrated. It can never be overrated, because life just shifts from serene cruise mode to sudden INSTANT DEATH mode, where the gear has been yanked into first, rain is suddenly pelting down from all sides, and the speed limit flashing at you from your water-stained windscreen is one hundred and TWO THOUSAND - one hundred and TWO THOUSAND - GET READY TO PARTAYYYYYYYYY.

In the worst way possible.

Which is fine if you plan for such a change. But if you're chowing down cheesy-McCheese-with-added-cheese chips and laughing at undead one-liners one minute, and then trying to find the lime juice in an overcrowded supermarket with 'under pressure' playing on the radio while blinking back tears of rage as people cut you off every ten seconds with their crammed shopping trolleys the next minute, with no in between.. well. You in mess.

Six

       I am in love with migoreng noodles and sushi train, and these things sustain me throughout all.

Seven

       What is progress if not those little googly-eyed dog stickers on fridge and cupboard doors? Instantly cleaning tissues? Eating all the food? A quarter-filled rubbish bin on pick up day? Continuously cleaning as per the implemented cleaning plan? Lights? Labels? A solid 'Hey, I know we're both parmesan cheese addicts, but I left you the last of the parmesan cheesy garlicky mushroom chicken from last night, even though I'm jonesing for it so bad, enjoy. I will record you eating so I can watch it later'.

It's deliciousness and honor in the highest form.

Eight

       At some point in my life I would love to have all my papers sorted and aligned to a system. 

Nine

       This one time I had a cold sore and my grandmother told me to put honey over it to make it go away. So I did. And just like a love-struck man who is foolishly lured into the forest by a bewitching maiden fairy who is really just an ugly old man covered in a glamour spell who is really just a bewitching maiden fairy under a disguising spell gone wrong and a cover spell gone right, my cold sore bloomed out over my lip as menacing and mocking as ever until it burst off leaving a scar.

The moral is: just because it is sweet, doesn't mean it is good.

Ten

       There was once a time where I wanted to choose tea over coffee. I ached for it, yearned to be able to make the switch, then sank into a pit of despair whenever I was lured back in to that sweet addictive aroma by my weak-willed ways. We do not talk about that time.

Amen.

o     o

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  ]^[

4__4

If you're not a zombie yet, are you even trying?

Lily hands me a wide-lipped jar containing a greenish liquid that splashes a little onto my fingers.
"Lily!" I wipe my hand on my jeans, wondering if she even noticed.
She darts halfway around the cauldron and glares dramatically at the bubbles popping and rising up to greet her face.
"And... what exactly is this greeny stuff?" I ask, wincing as my fingers start tingling.
"Greeny stuff!" Lily exclaims, looking up as a bubble pops near her chin. "Darma, this is a potion to find your dreams! Knock down the naysayers! Put an end to those who declare 'we command you conform in the sheeplest way possible'! This is-"
"Yes, yes, ok, sheesh." I'm not one hundred percent certain, but I'd bet my uncle Ferl's wooden rat memorabilia that Lily has been obsessed with cauldrons and potions since vanishing through a particular stone archway located in the town cemetery two years ago, and reappearing next to a water fountain on the other side of town two months and four days later.
Lily raises her arms theatrically and stares at me with the widest greenest, eyes ever to exist. "If done correctly, Darma, this can heal the dreamless, give shove to the apathetic- in a nice way, obviously- bring spark to the bored, and, even, allow whites and darks to be washed together!"
"Ohh," I nod. "Well I could do with that."
I could. Too many of my white lingerie had turned a pinky beige that clashed astoundingly (and unflatteringly) with my orange-red hair.
"Exactly!" Lily finishes in a triumphantly smug way. "You can be the first to try it!"
"What? Try it?" I look at the jar with waning interest. The liquid inside fills half the jar and is a chartreuse colour, thin and innocent-looking, calm, translucent, and yet somehow sinister.
"Oh I know!" I suddenly understand. "It looks like snot, that's why. It's the same colour."
Suddenly a voice speaks right next to my ear. "Darma, ok-"
I scream and drop the jar. It bounces on the carpet, the liquid splashes out over Lily's wooden bed-frame and purple sheet covers, then the jar rolls right under her desk.
Lily snatches it up like a lightning strike from a vexed and well-trained Zeus.
There's banging from downstairs. "You girls better not be making another potion in there!" Lily's mother's voice floats up.
Lily sighs. "We're doing homework!" she yells back.
"Does she have a super long bat down there or something? To hit the ceiling like that?"
"Listen, seriously, stop being so jumpy ok?" Lily says as she dips the jar back into the cauldron.
"There was still a bit left!" I exclaim, outraged at being presented with fresh potion.
"Just so you know, I am not a ninja, I just hate wearing shoes so no one ever hears me walk. It's not a super power, it's just practicality."
I let out a breath. "Lily, where did you go that day from the arch? Also, I have an avocado plant I need to change the water so I have to go home, I'll try your potion next-"
"Darma." Lily walks slowly over to me, making sure to press each foot heavily into the carpet, holding the potion in both hands and looking like an angry flowergirl at her enemy's wedding. "I have admired you since we met."
"Girls!" Lily's mother calls up again. "What did I say?"
"I'm just walking!" Lily yells.
"Can you possibly be more feminine about it?"
My head starts to ache. I watch as Lily walks right up to me. She holds the jar out. I remember when her hair was a golden brown and her face was round. She used to wear jeans, glittery jewellery, and had never even been inside a piercing store. Now she dresses in black, dyes her hair black, has twenty nine piercings and lost so much weight her cheeks collapsed into themselves and her hip bones press into my flesh whenever we hug.
"Really, where did you go?"
Lily smiles. "The jar holds all answers."
"Come on, I was your best friend. You can tell me."
Her smile widens. "The Jar."
I sigh loud and long. Then all of a sudden I hear a hissing sound. "Oh! That's not me!" I say automatically.
"SHIT!" Lily points past me.
I whirl around and see wafts of smoke rising up from the bed-frame.
We both gasp in unison. "But there's no fire?" I say, confounded and entranced in equal measure.
"Oh noooo," Lily moans, running to her desk. She flips papers over, muttering. I watch the smoke curling into elegant tendrils like mysterious orphaned acrobats, until she gives a mild scream of panic. "Darma, they're melting!"
"What?"
"EXCUSE ME LADIES!"
"What's melting?" I ask stupidly as the hissing grows louder, much like a swarm of peeved bees.
Lily's great-grandfather storms into the room, rather grand and rather rotund, carrying a gigantic purple fire extinguisher. He grabs hold of the nozzle, pulls the pin, and presses a button. There's a loud sound like a car horn. "Whoops!" he cackles, and pulls another pin, and presses another button. A stream of bubbles come out of the nozzle.
"You're pulling all the wrong pins!" Lily shouts.
"And most likely pressing all the wrong buttons!" I add, to feel useful.
Without any warning, the floor under Lily's bed gives way and crashes down onto the floor below.
"Christ almighty!" Lily's great-grandfather cries out.
"It's the broom!" Lily says, "I shouldn't have brought it into the house!"
"GIRLS!" Lily's mother's voice shoots up from the hole, now much clearer and angrier.
I turn to Lily, "You wanted me to drink that?"

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(^_@)v     ० * ০ ⁰ ੦ ۰೦

... but I'm still in the tub!