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Birthday
1990-06-13
Gender
Female
Location
MD, USA
Member Since
2003-08-03
Occupation
DES's hikari
Real Name
Tory (Dori, Tostito)
Personal
Achievements
A lot, not that they matter. Anime Club President/Fuhrer till the end of this year.
Anime Fan Since
(age 4) Tonari No Totoro
Favorite Anime
Gravitation, Weiss Kreuz, Hagaren (FMA), Kino No Tabi, .hack, Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann
Goals
To go on an insane shopping spree in Tokyo sometime soon. Gosurori...
Hobbies
Drooling. Over many things.
Talents
I make a mean ramen, mm!
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myOtaku.com: shiroikarasu
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Monday, September 27, 2004
I'm not happy wondering
I need some temporary seclusion, so that when I come back I will once again be able to appreciate the human race. Right now I just don't understand it, and it makes my head hurt trying to think about it. That's why I like the Sims. People, but not people.
I've got a bunch of mysterious scratches on me, on my hands and legs. It could be the yard work I did yesterday, but I wore long, thick jeans and latex gloves that I would have noticed a rip in. So I'm just puzzled.
And life is too complicated. I feel so simple, like an amoeba, while eveything around me rushes around at the speed of light with the precise intelligence and complexity of a military supercomputer. I don't really comprehend just how crazy everything is, but I know I'm missing something. I keep banging on the glass, but no one looks up. And yet my mind gets odder and odder and my body less easy to control every day. I do crazy, weird things and barely remember them, much less deciding to do them. Like I'm constantly going into drunk stupors and coming out of them clueless. And while I try to explain things in my own terms, I wonder if anyone else even understands these tetms, even sees them. They might not. I could be all alone, shut off from everyone, and trapped in an illusion. Like the Matrix. Only less cheesy. Everything is so foggy it's like a mixed-up, prolonged dream, set up in a neverending loop full of dejavu and blank-mindedness.
Now I'm confusing myself. What is left to understand anymore?
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