Tails from the Bark Side

So, earlier, while dealing with this name-change thing of mine and the tweaking that goes with all that paranoia kerfuffle, I found myself getting the 'ump because I suddenly realised that anybody can look at my Facebook photos. It didn't really click before. I imagined friends of friends, strangers and particular [insert insult]s from life/wherever strolling through my albums at their leisure. I don't know why I decided to care today. I thought about why I might've decided to care today for quite a while. Then I thought, maybe I should just be more discreet? Or just STFU altogether, and give everyone a break? Then I thought about who actually cares who says what on the internet. I don't think I like horrible strangers and bastards and ex-friends reading about my life. I obviously do like nice strangers reading it because I'm STILL JOURNALLING IN PUBLIC. WHAT THE CAPSLOCK IS GOING ON WITH MY HEAD PLEASE. Normally I wouldn't care who reads what, I never have really. I has no shame. But tonight I got so confused about it all and there was emo. Reliving pain from all that stuff, leading to tears because the rubbishbrane decided then would be a good time to remind me that I'll never have anyone to stroke my hair again (am actually a kitten) and blah... eventually I settled on the popular single thought of dying alone in a pool of my own woe without having achieved anything, and focussed on that for a while. Brilliant.

Now, again, brain won't shut it and I can't sleep. I only got four hours last night too. What's going on? I've been so happy with everything else. No money, but no problems either. If my brain is going to go about inventing reasons to be a miserable old tosser, I do wish it would take five minutes just to tell me what they are! I don't have anything important to do tomorrow (today) at least, because I fail at bringing home the bacon. Not that I want any damn bacon. I'm going to get up, go downstairs, cuddle my beard and maybe eat some ice-cream with edible ball bearings.