monday

A brief interlude from the Preacher man.
I got three pages in and my sister offered to feed me.
...
Food won.

Surprisingly actually weirdly really good but i feel like a Powerpuff Girl whilst drinking it.
The tomboy in me is very confused by this golden liquid.

I believe, 'lush' is the word.
I refuse to allow my parents to move.
You cannot leave a garden like this behind.
It was once compared to The Shire for fuck's sake.
High praise in my book.
Pun. Intended.

Who the hell knows what a 'hurricane girl' is but i definitely feel like one.
Especially when sustenance is being withheld from me.
Feed me or suffer the consequences.
The consequences which mainly consist of me making Pikitis face at you until my demands are met:
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