Fatebook

The monsters are out there. That is what we are taught by our respective sires night by night throughout what is later considered to be our childhood, even though we were all grown men and women by then.

Focus, man. Focus. A lot to take in last night. I must focus.

A whole night without Coraline. God knows how much I loved it, just for that. I’m pretty sure she’s not going to learn a thing from this. But, being the good person I am, I can still hope for the best, I suppose. Didn’t keep me from making a rather mean suggestion to Jason.

Paranoia. It can do very strange things to a man. Dreams, the bad kind, are just another form of it. Only more haunting. And despite of being surreal they appear to be so damn close to reality that you believe to see small reflections of them in the oddest of places.

Worst night ever. And this one is promising not to be any better at all. Swell.

Die Sonne war längst noch einmal auf und wieder untergegangen. Nathaniel lag in ihren Armen. Wie es sein sollte. Wie es fast immer schon war. Der einzige Ort, an dem er etwas wie Sicherheit empfand. Der einzige Ort, an dem er nicht das Gefühl hatte sich erklären zu müssen.

To quote from Mascha, I give you: Senator Bogart. That little comment pretty much saved my night yesterday. The lady’s got potential. At least her humor makes for good stress relief. Two thumbs up for that.

What is it with women and them never knowing when to quit? Especially in Marburg that seems to be the usual way to go for Toreador.