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street of the birdcage-makers
Lisa: Well aren't you just a precious little snowflake....
Me: I am not A precious little snowflake, I am THE precious little snowflake. I resent all insinuations that there might be other snowflakes out there that are also precious! I even resent the idea that there might be other snowflakes!
xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Staring at my phone, which persists in not ringing. At my calendar, with its neat grid of empty squares. Skype is open on my computer, with a row of empty contacts. Gmail is open, and with it Gchat, but no one has sent me a message that way in . . . well. A while ( Read more... ) -
go your own way even seasons have changed
The train brought me back to the far north in darkness. I emerged from the cave of Waverly Station to see the castle and the old town illuminated starkly white and unreal above, and the streets glittering wetly under the lamps. I nodded to the man begging outside the station. The shadows along George's Street held accumulated grime and cigarette ( Read more... ) -
no harm in another
These days it feels as if people have fled LiveJournal en masse, and I don’t know where they’ve gone. Granted I’ve been missing myself for quite some time-- first because of the endless black hole that was my dissertation, and then it was off to Rome, and then I entered the secondary black hole of job searching. You would think that being ( Read more... ) -
elle sort de son lit
waking from a dream
of rain falling
to rain, falling
~Alan Spence
xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx
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from under the mountain
I've somewhat disappeared from LJ due to various factors, mostly involving my dissertation and my parents' visit. So I'm only sticking my head above the water, so to speak, in order to ask those of you who read manga, or manga scanlations, if you would be so kind as to take my survey (so that I can write an awesome dissertation and get a good grade ( Read more... ) -
a seal upon your heart
Somewhere, somewhere in the wide world, there must be a person with my name tattooed upon their heart. And that heart beats the triplicate rhythm of my name, a strange staccato, one-two-three one-two-three one-two-three ( Read more... ) -
castles in the air
Things I want for my house ( Read more... ) -
angels no fire no salt on the plough
During last week’s game, we got to the stage where we were making plans. Well, Jonathan was making plans as his character, who Lázár has nicknamed “Ponce.” And as he was making plans, he was looking at me for advice and approval.
Which of course Lázár, my current character, is completely unsuited to give: he’s not a planner or a deep thinker. No; it ( Read more... )
