Quetiapine and Mozart
and a small spliff to get me over the years of survival instincts that tell me not to touch the pills. Another shit scary leaflet. It pretty much knocked me out the other day, we'll see how we go but I doubt I will be taking them in morning. Too much order to create as mother would say cleanliness to impose would be another. Emails between me and dark and handsome everyday, he doth make me laugh sometimes. It really should make me cring a lot than it does all that archaic language and romantic flourishing. But I seem to be getting embarressed, and blushing at it more than being repulsed, which would surely be the more natural response. He must be hiding something with it all though, Julia Roberts Pretty Woman best film, really? hmm. It's just so great to be speaking to someone who makes plans to spend all day in the library and says I'm beautiful. Nothing wrong with that, I just hope he isn't the sort that takes himself to seriously, hate that.
