A black swan’s feather makes up half of my drawn, quartered, conflicted person, and it is light, untethered, swift to chase the air and to follow the smell of roses and honeyed bees, the salt scent of that dense, green ocean. Easily it wafts and happily, it does not fear what will become of it when it is severed from its past permutations, its ( Read more... )

    'Flimmer' ought to be a word. Flickering, fluttering and shimmering, like a mirage, a candle in a brown paper bag.

    Oh!! Aubrey, I heart-heart-heart you! Those two notifications were such lovely things to receive so close to one am. I'll make a userpic or two in honour of you, darling dearest. You're a wonder. Happy December. <3

    Ｉ‘m all grey and melancholy today, languid and plaintive as a rotund little curled worm, and I don’t know quite what to do with myself. I’m not at work because I’m sick and besides, the whole world seems to me to be quite sad and ill at the minute. It’s the rain, I think, I can’t abide it. It’s been drizzling and driving at us with slippery, ( Read more... )

    Something has happened to me, and I have not been myself for a long time. I know I could find it again, the grotto in the pit of my belly where there are pearls, silvery mermaids, diaphanous rocks and thick, luminous green waters, but it is as though there is a wall where the rivers of my nerves snake to and from my poor coiled brain, and I ( Read more... )

"Why must people kneel down to pray?" If I really wanted to pray I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd go out into a great big field all alone or into the deep, deep, woods, and I'd look up into the sky--up--up--up--into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I'd just FEEL a prayer. Well, I'm ready. What am I to ( Read more... )

    There must be good people in the world. I refuse to believe that everything is as abysmal as it seems sometimes, I refuse to believe that there is only the taste of rain mixing with the odour of ashes in my mouth, I can't, can't, can't believe that there are only cheats, liars, thieves, selfishness.

    I'm useless, I am hopeless, no good at war, I tick tick tick and with the ticking I complete a thousand revolutions, I complete the curves of a heart, I complete and the arsenic turns translucent, the bomb explodes not with the purple flowers of the black rain, but with the emerald shoots of the grass, the crimson, the rose so dallied over. I'm ( Read more... )

    We need more dissidence in the world, we always need more dissidence.

    This makes me feel better, in any case and anyway.