"Father Mackenzie, wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave..."

Hello. Yes, it's me, Dorian Soujin. I'm home.

I'm suffering from jet lag and a massive headache, and am sitting here eating a blueberry muffin two weeks old. My feet hurt.

The Mysterious Island rocks.

Now I am going to bed. Full trip details to follow to-morrow morning.

Love, Soujin.

Also, new icon. Waen drew it.

"Whipers words of wisdom, let it be..."

Dude, the smoke alarm is freaking out. But there's no fire, because I checked. I think. Just a sec.

Okay, no fire. Mum just took out the battery.

--No, no, I don't know why I'm still up. I think I'm trying to read two weeks of friendslist entries before I go to bed.

My head still hurts.

>_< I'm starting to think in Icelandic. What I'll do to Viljaumur when I get my hands on him. In, like, December.

Ow.

"Denvers Carew, can this be you? What kind of man is this you've taken...?"

...You know who I'm in love with right now?

Passepartout.

Yeah.

(Okay, how obvious is it that I need to go to sleep right now?)