.:XXIV:. Emptying All of the Vaults, O Miser, What Happened to Thou?
[Private to Self]
Caro--
These scribblings you will never see. I write them and then cut them out of this journal, which has become home to my unfinished thoughts. I have a better journal though- it is all black leather, dragonskin.
from romania i think. they brought it with them before that summer. i was at home, playing with raphael, and they brought it to me. i've always loved calligraphy, because.
Something has been crawling beneath my skin these past few months. I have been connected to a mediwizard resuscitation apparatus, but I am not showing any signs of life. (I'm kidding.)
Aha! Aha!! There you are, I found you, at last- the inkblot of my doom. Fallen out of the inkpot, staining the pure white divinity of something that I have lost my memory of. Strange smiles, I think. But those I have no use for. Sincerity is a mere lack of thespian talent. How boring.
[/Private to Self]
[Private to Terry]
You want to join in on some fun? Meet me at the gates to death-- you should know where. You, of all people, should know where that glistening asphalt path must lead to. Insanity, un-living, is there really so great a difference?
I want to try new things. New tastes. (I have forgotten yours, though. Remind me.)
[/Private to Terry]
[Private to Millicent]
I am leaving for the doors of perception. Even if you wanted to- you wouldn't be able to follow me.
forgive me for not fucking you enough. haha. (I'll be back by supper though, so have the house-elves prepare a trout. Which wine, you know.)
[/Private to Millicent]
[Private to Second Self]
Me and My-
Have you recognized yourself in the fleeting moment of the Now? Of course, it is you. Who else would be my second self? I am entertaining myself (and thus- yourself!) with leaving suicidal notes to people of interest. I was wondering though- which colour would suit my deathly pallor best? I want to be prepared.
Aye, aye-- I'm itching to start! When do we get to smile threateningly and show off the manic gleam in our eyes? (It's becoming an obsession, that hunting idea.)
I have also written a letter to you- but you will never read it.
Caro--
These scribblings you will never see. I write them and then cut them out of this journal, which has become home to my unfinished thoughts. I have a better journal though- it is all black leather, dragonskin.
from romania i think. they brought it with them before that summer. i was at home, playing with raphael, and they brought it to me. i've always loved calligraphy, because.
Something has been crawling beneath my skin these past few months. I have been connected to a mediwizard resuscitation apparatus, but I am not showing any signs of life. (I'm kidding.)
Aha! Aha!! There you are, I found you, at last- the inkblot of my doom. Fallen out of the inkpot, staining the pure white divinity of something that I have lost my memory of. Strange smiles, I think. But those I have no use for. Sincerity is a mere lack of thespian talent. How boring.
[/Private to Self]
[Private to Terry]
You want to join in on some fun? Meet me at the gates to death-- you should know where. You, of all people, should know where that glistening asphalt path must lead to. Insanity, un-living, is there really so great a difference?
I want to try new things. New tastes. (I have forgotten yours, though. Remind me.)
[/Private to Terry]
[Private to Millicent]
I am leaving for the doors of perception. Even if you wanted to- you wouldn't be able to follow me.
forgive me for not fucking you enough. haha. (I'll be back by supper though, so have the house-elves prepare a trout. Which wine, you know.)
[/Private to Millicent]
[Private to Second Self]
Me and My-
Have you recognized yourself in the fleeting moment of the Now? Of course, it is you. Who else would be my second self? I am entertaining myself (and thus- yourself!) with leaving suicidal notes to people of interest. I was wondering though- which colour would suit my deathly pallor best? I want to be prepared.
Aye, aye-- I'm itching to start! When do we get to smile threateningly and show off the manic gleam in our eyes? (It's becoming an obsession, that hunting idea.)
I have also written a letter to you- but you will never read it.