I've not posted to this site recently as I've been feeling very low. With this supposedly being a high biography, it never even entered my mind to update it.
It's interesting how this personality has absolutely no presence in my day-to-day life. Their actions and memories are entirely their own.
For example, as I came to write this post, I found some uncommitted changes that I had no recollection of. Evidently, high me found Dunnet on their terminal and screen recorded their attempts.
The other thing that I realised is how this site may be perceived. Make no assumption: high doesn't necessarily mean via the use of drugs.
High simply means not my day-to-day cynical, depressed, and pessimistic self. High like the kind of person I think I used to be. Back before life became what it is. Not low.
We ordered from Midnight Delivery, which is when I realised another thing, what a night of realisation.
Why, when you're high, do you insist on coming to write this nonsense instead of just enjoying your time with Hannah? She so rarely gets to see you in this elated mood, and you neglect her attention and self-indulge this bullshit instead.
Get a grip of yourself, chick.
We suspect we've (though Amelie solely was responsible for this, I'll share the burden) messed up our Midnight Delivery order, and it may in fact not be delivered until 19 hours from now.
Disappointing, but I'll finish typing this up and then head to bed to enjoy my time with Amelie.
There's someone at the door.
IT'S MIDNIGHT DELIVERY!
Guys, thank you so much.
OK, sorry for the branch there, the point is: instead of updating this site right now, I'm going to enjoy my time with Amelie.
This isn't our order.
Guys, this is unacceptable. We were so looking forwa--
Sorry, doorbell again. It was the delivery driver. They gave us the wrong bag.
Thanks again, guys. Sorry about the confusion there.
I've written an advert for you, by the way. Let me know if you'd be cool with me making it for you pro bono. It'll be wild.
Off to enjoy food and company,Goodnight.