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rejectomorph

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Mood [Nov. 6th, 2013|05:10 pm]
rejectomorph
Half an hour before sunset, the thin crescent moon is as pale as the wispy clouds with which it shares the sky. Somehow it manages to make me sad. Maybe I'll cheer up when night falls and the moon brightens. But I don't think I will. This place has gotten me into a dismal mood. I wish I had the means to just move somewhere else. And I guess I should wish for a pony while I'm at it.

Oh, I think I forgot to eat lunch today. It must be time for more buttered noodles.
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: gutbloom
2013-11-07 11:08 am (UTC)
I have a pony named "noodles" that I can lend to you. I also have one named "macaroni" and another named "lo mein". They are three of the four ponies of the apocalypse. The last is named.... Butter, but I don't own him. It is said that you can catch Butter, but you can't keep him for long.

I'd be willing to bring them over and ride around your leaf piles shouting threats of armageddon. It may not lift your mood, but I promise it will provide a counter-irritant. Unfortunately, my ponies are afraid of the pale crescent moon. They won't go out, Butter or not.
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[User Picture]From: flying_blind
2013-11-08 12:38 am (UTC)
At this point, Armageddon probably would lift my mood. Even a lesser disaster would probably do it. A good thunderstorm might even help, as long as it didn't take my power out. There's nothing like natural (or supernatural) violence to counteract melancholy.
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