~*articulate what forever smoulders*~
You're apparently easy to depress. Filled with newfound sulkiness, you trudge up to your room and begin playing Silent Hill in a twisted attempt at seasonal feeling. You almost manage to ignore the drunken laughter and happy trick-or-treating sounds emanating from outside the house. Almost.
Still, at about eleven it dies down. The bitterness starts to fade, and you justify your actions by not wanting to look stupid in front of people. Just as you're about to convince yourself that you made the right choice, though, you spot the gray latex of a worryingly convincing zombie costume you bought in early September and apparently forgot about.
Your charginned swearing can be heard from outside.
It's 11:17, and you were expected at the party by nine. If you hurry, you can still make it before they all go to haunted houses, but will it be worth it?
Still, at about eleven it dies down. The bitterness starts to fade, and you justify your actions by not wanting to look stupid in front of people. Just as you're about to convince yourself that you made the right choice, though, you spot the gray latex of a worryingly convincing zombie costume you bought in early September and apparently forgot about.
Your charginned swearing can be heard from outside.
It's 11:17, and you were expected at the party by nine. If you hurry, you can still make it before they all go to haunted houses, but will it be worth it?