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Flea the Magician

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Not even funny... [14 Feb 2005|05:23am]
[ mood | annoyed ]

As utterly childish and silly it might seem, randome temper tantrums and destructions of ugly vases and such do really make me feel better. Unfortutnately, it never lasts. And it leads to me having to clean. Never did like housework. Only good thing about it is that I've perfected my anti-dust wards. Ironic, really. I am a powerful, feared magician, whose magic has given the humans fodder for many a tale, and I'm reduced to battling dust. Not even funny.

Moping won't do me any good, though. I believe a hot bath is in order. At least my magic means no mucking about with heating the water on the stove.

Be dazzled?

Rock bottom... [04 Feb 2005|02:52am]
[ mood | bored ]

I think I’ve hit rock bottom, really. I suppose that’s a good thing, as things can hardly get any worse than they already are.

I’ve been surprisingly mellow lately. Not like me at all. I’m usually more flamboyant by nature. More passionate, too. But then, what fun is there in playing a role when I have no audience to perform for? I simply don’t get the rush I used to from anything anymore. Everything is boring these days. I’m tempted to go cast a bunch of random spells on some human village, just to get some excitement.

I actually fell asleep while in bat form yesterday. And sadly, waking up upside down was the most interesting thing to happen all day.

Be dazzled?

The strongest's right... ...to ramble, apparently. [03 Feb 2005|02:54am]
[ mood | pensive ]

I feel… …Uprooted.

Not so weird, really. The last year has been even odder than I’m used to, and that’s saying something. Those people who say that change is always a good thing? They should be cut into little pieces and fed to something with very sharp teeth. I’m in a rather vindictive mood these days. Go figure.

I miss feeling powerful. Ridiculous, I know. It’s not like I’m less powerful now, but being a part of a feared army did give a feeling of power that I thrived on. Still, being nostalgic is a waste of time.

I do miss people to talk to, though. As wonderful a conversationalist as I am, it’s still a limit to how long talking to myself is fun. I suppose I could always talk to the Imps around here, but honestly? They’re not very interesting at all. Just speeches about how they shall never be enslaved into another Mystic’s service again. I give them ten years before they are. Ten years at most. Besides, I think they’re afraid that I’ll do something that’ll endanger their precious newfound freedom. As if I’m interested having a bunch of multicolored midgets running around.

…I think I’ll go make myself some hot tea and do something useful. Maybe I’ll sew something…

Be dazzled?

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