clouds connected.

[izkariote]

The greatest kind of party can be defined in good music, Japanese food, nicely cut chopsticks, perky asses, daring somebody to eat directly off the ice cream machine dispenser thingie, Pipay's loveliness, Pao and Tim strumming randomness, watching a freshwater sea snake try to slither its way around, avoiding debate talk like the plague, random ADMU college boys talking on What Final Fantasy Was The Greatest, four Vodka cruisers (two blue, two red), a sip of Cervesa Negra, the smell of Winston Lights, re-acquainting myself with the strangeness of my Alma Mater, blowing up an amp, telling off a testosterone-pumped member of the opposite sex, chatting with people you normally wouldn't be chatting with, discovering an orgy-worthy couch, hearing "The Red" strummed on distortion through an old electric guitar and reveling in the rampant slashiness that has dominated all sensibilities.

Katherine Loh, sister/shapeshifter/pseudo-slasher/somewhat lover/friend, you are and always will be loved. When you leave, we will miss you to bits. The world is bright because there are people like you to kick us in the shins, poke us on y!m and remind us that things are still worthwhile somehow. The USA is far from worthy of receiving the grace of your presence.

*sniffle*

Now that the melodrama has passed and I'm almost normal, DALnet won't let me come on. =_=