Buffy: You know, in the midst of all this insanity, a couple of things are actually starting to make sense. And the guy thing… *sigh* I always feared there was something wrong with me. You know, because I couldn’t make it work. But maybe I’m not supposed to.
Angel: Because you’re the Slayer.
Buffy: Because… okay. I’m cookie dough..... *Angel gets a weird look* I’m not done baking. I’m not finished becoming whoever the hell it is I’m going to turn out to be. I make it through this and the next thing and the next thing and maybe one day I turn around and realize I’m ready. I’m cookies. And then, you know, if I want someone to eat m— or enjoy warm, delicious cookie-me, then that’s fine. That’ll be then. When I’m done.
Angel :Any thoughts on who might enjoy… do I have to go with the cookie analogy?
Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7 episode last: Chosen
now, while i'm not talking about being the Chosen One or anything, here i am at my computer, not enjoying curling up in bed, squeezing every spare minute i can with sleeping *m* (who sleeps way later than i do...), and i thought maybe i should blog while i'm up. y'know, do something useful. and i realized that i really don't have anything to say lately.
now, that's not to say that my head is not absolutely chock-full and swirling around with thought-flotsam, because inside delena's head lately has been so noisy it's drowned out most everything else. and part of me contemplates calling in sick, like, every day simply because i don't want to go outside. and while part of it might be the weather (the whole no-sun-bad-for-solar-powered-delena thing), i know a lot of it is my spirit approaching those vague and ephemeral shores of depression.
yesterday was a wonderful day. i should have been shining, but instead i came home and just wanted to be quiet.
just...lots of thoughts. and they're all swirling around in my head. i could have filled pages and pages with what's been going on upstairs, but for all that...there's not one single thought that's completely formed and ready to be posted yet.
my thoughts are cookie dough. cold, sticky, not-so-good-looking, heavy, gritty, and people always coming up and stealing a pinch to taste no matter how hard i slap their hands with the wooden spoon.