*exeunt*Thus I don't really have any reason to hang around here. I don't update my journal enough and I don't frequent the forums, well, ever.
If yr interested, my is under Please, feel free to stalk and possibly molest me.
But for now... adeui.
Fat of the Land cont.4.Fat of the Land cont.
I pushed through the crowds around the ruined Cathedral, dirt still caked on my trousers, as the fire crews wailed their way through the traffic. They needn’t have bothered. It had been a dry explosion, a work of art in itself - and one that bore the signature of an old friend of mine, writ as large as the dome it had replaced on the Embankment skyline.
The people by the cathedral that day were less akin to a tide or water, and more reminiscent of a field of corn; pushed by the breeze but fundamentally not going anywhere. I myself felt pinned to the ground like a scarecrow, torn between my twin instincts of panic
QuietusA man came to see me today. He stood in the doorway, muted by the weight of dignity. I treated him coldly, seeking to match his restrictive poise with an aloofness of my own; and, somewhat inevitably, in time he left, meeting the challenge of the rain and the sleet with nothing more than his austere gaze.Quietus
Such a desolate air of calm around him- it lingered with me for the remainder of the day, bleak and bittersweet. By the time I left, I had to make my way through the snow. I wandered if I would see him again; he fascinated me, that man. The melancholy of pride, the folly of the knowledge of calm… So I walked to the car in silenc
WakeA sound, propelling me from my sleep, and from my pillow - bolt upright, wide eyed, ears straining at the leash. I let them loose, to seek out their own prey. That creak; an imagined aural shadow, or the auditory spoor of something far more sinister? I strain, until I can hear the whistling of the void, the vibrations of the darkness, and the deep, bassy thrum of the Universe, ticking over… there. A cough, definitely, or a foot on a floorboard. Shall I get out of bed, look? Or dig in deeper, the instincts of child or a caveman?Wake
This ColdShe sits there clawing at her ice-pale skin, rocking back and forth, and in and out of yesterday, whispering, “It never used to be this cold. It never used to get this cold. It never used to know how” to painted pictures on her walls. But that, that was before the springs forgot to come, and when trees still knew how to grow. And she never realized this until she no longer swam through your heart, until she found herself drowning in your screams (their silence, such things are imagined). She draws fresh blood, deeply jaded against shaky nails, “This love is so conditional!” And she needsThis Cold
DECENT TRANS IT DECLARE TART.DECENT TRANS IT DECLARE TART
Feet seek feasts of televised-Booth- feats (melodiless footnotes in pages prepared unread) of Lincoln vehicular slaughters veiling the very volumes they measured in atomized atomic time.
They race to face the global epidermic centers of continental continuums
consuming math, prerequisital recitals lamenting the loss of elaborated demeaning misunderstandings.
Understand the conflict- : ing verbs never show state of being, but state of change.
State the purpose:
D
UNTITLEDOnly when they try every tendon of my patience, do I know this is futile. They've drained every drop of my spirit and forced me to believe their lies. They've convinced me that I am nothing but a shadow of animosity; something for all to hate. Only when they rob me of everything and crush my feeble body against the wall, do I realise I am lost. But only then do I understand that you are my everything.UNTITLED
Cheers, though! This one's on me:
Put it on my tab (I don't really plan on paying it anyway!)
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SORRY!
Horay! hooray!!
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Norton AntiVirus 2002.
yes long time no see
thx so much for dropping by..
i'll be around, i'm sure.
(i'm finally going to use the darkroom sometime this week/weekend - i've got film from last may that i have yet to develop! ... i actually do'nt quite remember what's on the rolls now.. haha)
anyway, it's back to reading anthro for me
cheers,
lindsay
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look at the stars, look how they shine for you ~ coldplay
~canadians ||
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My Print Account : [link] 4x6 [link]
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Writing can be fun too
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