Friday, January 23rd, 2004
|
|
2:15 pm
|
|
|
|
2:13 pm
|
so i'm tired of losing the sense of who i am... it's back to the ancient battle of wits and love... of being trustworthy versus being someone you can respect yourself for being agh
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Tuesday, January 6th, 2004
|
|
1:39 pm - oh, _lord_, mayhap i don't wanna post this ... :)
|
LiveJournal Slut Score for wumpcat |
| Percentage of your friends you've met |
75.00% |
| Percentage of your friends you've kissed |
25.00% |
| Percentage of your friends you've sexed |
6.25% |
| Percentage of your friends you fancy |
50.00% |
| Slut points |
33 |
| (Based on 16 LiveJournal friends) |
Take the LJ Slut Test refined by darkmoon. [comment here] |
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
|
1:18 pm - to the stripedog... sort, of
|
because too many times we recoil in fear of losing that which we have not even admitted to need in a way that throbs through the body's knowledge like ebb & flow in a coastal tidal river
i love you. you may not wish for me to say that, yet, ever. but if i have already lost you what harm can truth do? i love you, i say: but i have no method of getting those words into your eyesight i love you i do not know whether i am in love with you; i think not.
so i chant on paper: a longtime affliction & love affair half-baked i know how your fingers feel on my skin but were we even lovers?
the scary thing is i do not know how i love you. is it trust? truth? the warm staticky kitten-fur and espresso haze of long, old friendship? truth be told i dream of manic panic hot- pink love, but those dreams scare me alittle.
maybe i'll never see you again, & then where does this leave me? i have to remember if you leave it's not neccessarily rejection.
i love you. i know that i also know how scared i am that no one? will ever love me back.
please tell me that you 're someone.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Monday, November 17th, 2003
|
|
8:06 am
|
- the wind and the wires made a tattletale sound when a wave broke over the railing and everyone knew as the captain did too was the Witch of November come questing -
maybe not gospel maybe not beauty but in it is defined my soul
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Sunday, November 16th, 2003
|
|
2:36 am
|
|
|
Tuesday, October 21st, 2003
|
|
9:29 am - buttercup chains
|
( beginnings )
It be still something that is begun, and something that will hopefully grow when given time and nurture. Fiction does not come easy in long blockses, yet it feels as if it may be worth pursuing.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Sunday, October 19th, 2003
|
|
9:20 pm - tori amos:
|
crucify myself every day crucify myself
...just what god needs, one more victim, glad i'm mainly atheist and then pagan
god and the frozen of Hel cannot touch me i am the breed of Unforgiven
therefore neither cat nor vampire completely fits i am the catvampire - she who curls for warmth and in doing so fucking drains the life of those she wishes to care for her
shebitch
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Friday, October 3rd, 2003
|
|
8:34 am - What would I say, had I teeth for blood?
|
It seems as if everyone has places they are vulnerable. Aligning with chakra work and strengths of personality. It is odd, how close we hold places from where our souls spring...
( meridians )
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Thursday, September 25th, 2003
|
|
11:23 pm - Just so there is no confusion, I am not this good at writing. Therefore, not mine.
|
Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished. ... Have you not had enough? Yes! Of what? Of this... this thing. I always had. Then there's no reason for it to change. It may end. ... Why do you stay with me? Why do you keep me? There's no one else. There's nowhere else. ... I'll leave you, I have things to do. In your kitchen? Yes. Outside of here it's death. ... I can't sit. True. And I can't stand. ... If I could sleep I might make love. I'd go into the woods. My eyes would see... the sky, the earth. I'd run, run, they wouldn't catch me. Nature! There's something dripping in my head. A heart, a heart in my head. ... Beyond is the... other hell. ... I see... a multitude... in transports... of joy. ... Last night I saw inside my breast. There was a big sore. Pah! You saw your heart. No, it was living. Clov! Yes. What's happening? Something is taking its course. ... One day you'll be blind, like me. You'll be sitting there, a speck in the void, in the dark, forever, like me. ... I can't leave you. I know. And you can't follow me. ... But deep in what sleep, deep in what sleep already? ... No forcing, no forcing, it's fatal. ... The end is the beginning and yet you go on. ... Let's stop playing! Never! Put me in my coffin. There are no more coffins. Then let it end. ... Terrors of night come upon me. ...
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Tuesday, September 23rd, 2003
|
|
4:06 pm - coloring thoughts formless and true; there's an idea was told
|
( as )
As with all else, if read and appriciated, comments are allowed. If disliked, hide tail between legs and leave from here.
|
|
(1 comment | comment on this)
|
|
Sunday, September 21st, 2003
|
|
9:48 pm
|
Mangle my world, hurt me or those I care for, and I will follow you forever and hunt you down three times over.
if you are confused, then don't worry, this isn't for you.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Saturday, September 20th, 2003
|
|
9:39 am
|
|
|
|
9:18 am - slow down & we'll sail to the river
|
|
|
|
12:50 am - my tongue seriously hurts. i burned it. owwwwwwwwwch.
|
|
|
Friday, September 19th, 2003
|
|
1:41 pm - this was something written last year
|
( Read more... ) it was, I think, originally meant to be translated into Sindarin, but I didn't get that far then... Now the time's passed, but perhaps I'll do some translation later on... there is never a deadline in the mind...
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Thursday, September 18th, 2003
|
|
1:50 pm - continuum
|
|
|
|
1:42 pm - she begins: three some poetry
|
|
|
|
1:31 pm - she's cryptic
|
as she writes, she watches. Watches to make sure little if any of herself shows through, as even in cyberspace no one is truly anonymous. Watches 'cause in a smaller community it's even harder to be absent of persona. Watches 'cause it happens that even with said absentness there are too many paths trodden down and closer.
She may start using this house to write in. If so, tread carefully, and please respect that which you find here.
She needs a place where only those she invites may go. Not that it will be bounded, for some of those she invites may not have the keys. But she will give other keys. Trails of breadcrumbs, droplets silver of mercury and tears. The wet smack of foam after emerging from the questionable showers. The cloud of steam all too thin to shield an escape. The way smoke traces when a fire is watered out. The slow curves miles away when something drops solid into water... All traces. All keys.
If you know her, feel free to talk. We are not deadly here. It is a place of haven, of calm. Of question and of current.
current mood: spacy! current music: the fan, the radio, people down the hall screaming
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Tuesday, September 9th, 2003
|
|
9:19 am
|
Blue ice, red velvet Washed across my fingers So blind to seek truth
You touched me then I think I was organdy Gilded with blue ice
Perhaps the summer, in having frosted heavily in regions close to me, is beginning to announce her wane - It was noticed before this, but it is easy to ignore. Autumn, bringing hectic yet elegantly chill splendor, is too beautiful to watch for too long - within two months, the branches will be bare and snow may well lie on the ground, if not thickly, then there. Suns spiralling round, orbits spiralling round suns, rhythms pulsing and fading still. Sometimes it is a good thing to lie outside, to feel the grass, to breathe.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|