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Dogma
Self-Portrait 3
hellblazer
I watched Moulin Rouge last night, and more likely than not I'm going to watch it again tonight. It was one of the most magnificently, opulently beautiful things that I've ever seen. About the highest compliment I can think of to pay it is that it makes me want to be in love, and anyone who knows me knows that that is high praise indeed.

You know, I'm starting to question these happy feelings I've been having lately, because they just don't feel right. This isn't the way it's supposed to be. This is not the natural order of things. For God's sake, I feel like singing. ME. I feel like frelling singing. It's all Sarah's fault, is what it is, for making me move into that house with her and Magargee and Bess. Now there's always people around, and I can't shut myself off in the Fortress of Solitude and be all bitter when I don't feel like talking to anyone. Dammit, I knew this was going to happen. I'm actually starting to like being around people again.

Wow. I don't know what feels stranger, the fact that I'm complaining about being happy or the fact that it's actually bothering me to complain about being happy. It used to be par for the course. The complaining, I mean. On the rare occasions over the past few years when I've actually been happy.

This is going to be bad for business. I can tell.