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in a web of glass, pinned to the edges of vision

You know it's over when...

I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte

mucha mosaic

You know it's over when...

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mucha mosaic
...you're laying in bed, and he's talking, and you find yourself honestly wondering what he'd do if you said "I'm sorry- I can't hear you over all the voices in my head screaming swearwords at God. Could you repeat that a little louder, please?"

...any relationship tactic taken in the book (or film) American Psycho might make sense.

...you wonder what it would smell like if you were to slice open a human body, and push your nose in there, right up against the recently-living meat, and just... inhale.
  • That last one sounds fascinating, except I think you'd get blood up your nose.
    • Yeah, it kind of does.
      I am finding myself wondering about the scent input of raw meat, for some reason. No idea why.
    • Trouble is, from what I'm told, soon as you're talking open abdominal cavity, the whiff's pretty nasty. Not much like the nice clean muscle tissue aka raw steak that you're probably thinking about.
    • Raw meat doesn't smell particularly exciting. Muscle has a relatively mild smell. I second the ick on the abdominal cavity issue.
  • Blink.

    I'd say that sounds familiar, but it doesn't. My voices were screaming, "get the hell out while you still can."

    My icon expresses my concern for you, sir.
  • I think you spent too much time in your costume Saturday night. :)
  • "lying" in bed.
  • heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I actually HAVE been there, at least for the first two.

    By the time I divorced Conradin, however, the reason for killing him would have been never wanting to listen to him again and once he was shut up for good it would have been feeding time for the sharks in the Bay.
    • I listened to that Eminem song a lot during our divorce. You know, the one about the ex-wife in the trunk.

      People who say that song is anti-woman have never been through a bad breakup.
  • ...you're laying in bed, and he's talking, and you find yourself honestly wondering what he'd do if you said "I'm sorry- I can't hear you over all the voices in my head screaming swearwords at God. Could you repeat that a little louder, please?"

    Bah. That's every day of my marriage. It has come to replace 'good morning' for us.
  • ... oh shit. :/
    • Actually? Nothing's wrong, aside from me getting up far too early from a night of disturbing dreams.
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