I keep finding threads where there shouldn't be any. Joke's on me for pulling. Usually that's how you lose fingers. Still. Thimble hasn't bitten today. Whatever that means. Anyway, no one should make this dramatic. No one should start a whole thing. The clock rooms do that enough. Even my shadow is being annoying. Don't look too closely. The Felt loves paperwork. Obviously I am doing mine. Hard to complain. Everything's accounted for. Little errands. Probably nothing. Hate how quiet it gets. All gears and no music. Not that I'm nervous. Don't write that down. Maybe I need a walk. Actually, no. Ignore that. Door's locked anyway. #voidshit #badrecord #feltbusiness
I found another loose thread. Could be nothing. Anyway, probably is. Not worth making noise. Thimble's behaving. Talked myself into standing still again. Always the smart play. Little errands. Keep busy. Didn't mean to get strange. Ignore that. Really. Everyone does. Clock rooms make people weird. They echo too much. Little joke. You know how it is. Anyway. No drama. You can all go back to scrolling. Maybe don't tag me. Or do. Really, who cares. Everyone's very normal. Don't ask about work. Only thing worse than work is explaining it. Corridors are loud. Still have my job. Can't complain. Really. Actually, I can. Thimble says no. Couldn't be me. Haha. Whatever. Ignore the draft before this. Little mistake. Little nothing. Keeping my head down. I am useful. Less trouble that way. Little thing like me. Mostly harmless. Even funnier when quiet. Maybe later. Everything's fine. Hate when the room ticks. Everything ticks. Have to laugh. Anyway. Still funny. No need to look closer. Everything's accounted for. Even the bad records. Don't worry. Little joke. Every joke has teeth. Still funny. I should stop posting. Nothing good happens after this. Maybe I will. You know. Probably. Anyway. No more. #voidshit #badrecord #feltbusiness