Stream of consciousness randomness
I think if I hadn't written something soon I'd've gone stark staring bonkers, so it's a good thing I bunked off politics revision early . . .
Lockheed's lip balm tastes of cherries. Mostly it tastes of sugar, actually, when she presses her tongue to the inside of her lip specifically to taste it. She chose it because she likes the thought that if she kisses someone, she'll taste like cherries - not that she's got anyone to kiss right now. She came into possession of the lip balm after Laura had already broken up with Steph, because of Laura's general inherent freakishness, and she wonders sometimes if Steph would have liked the taste of cherries. Or just sugar. Mostly sugar.
If she grabs a random pretty stranger to kiss them, she'll taste like cherries. Now that *is* a nice thought, one that would never occur to Laura, one that's as alien to Laura as the thought of just not *wearing* bloody clothes when it's too damn hot anyway. Laura ought to be grateful she has Lockheed, to think these things for her. Otherwise she'd be even more of a sad little freak girl than she already is. Or maybe less, heh. Lockheed doesn't mind being a freak so long as she has fun.
Lockheed thinks Laura would probably be happier if she acted on some of the thoughts Lockheed has, but Laura only ever contemplates that when she's drunk, which is probably about number three in the list of reasons why Lockheed thinks Laura ought to get drunk more (every now and then, Laura gets weird ideas about detoxing or whatever and just doesn't drink, eats vegan, writes in her diary a lot, and generally drives Lockheed crazy), just below 'because drunk-Laura is more fun' and 'because you'll never dance properly otherwise'.
The number one reason why Laura ought to drink more ("Lockheed," Laura says, in the voice she reserves especially for saying Lockheed's name that way, like it's Lockheed's damn fault these thoughts are in Laura's head any-bloody-way and Lockheed has to personify them) is because Lockheed just wants to be drunk, quite a lot. They've read Plato and Lockheed knows which part of the soul (Four, there are four quarters, not a triangle but a circle, something Laura and Lockheed, for once, both agree on) *she* is. She's the body, she's the appetite, and yeah, she's all about wanting. She doesn't see anything wrong with this. None of the things she wants are immoral in themselves - she doesn't want to hurt people unless they deserve it or she's feeling particularly ratty ("Lockheed." Laura says again, as if the thoughts aren't in her head anyway, as if were Lockheed not outvoted three to one they wouldn't have kicked the crap out of certain people long ago), she doesn't want to mess around with coke or heroin (are they immoral or just stupid? Sometimes it seems like the two have the same extension. Lockheed's been paying too much attention to Laura's revision. People do immoral things, sometimes, because they're fucking stupid. Sometimes it's more complicated than that. Lockheed gets why Laura doesn't understand that, and she gets why Laura's disturbed that she doesn't understand that, because Laura's a neurotic bag of twitchy nerves and caffeine and insecurities and if she doesn't understand something she's convinced it'll come back and bite her in the butt one of these days. Plus it's ethics, one of the main things Laura thinks about, and if Lockheed's all about wanting, Laura's all about thinking. Overthinking.), she doesn't want to nail kittens to planks of wood (Lockheed's not a big fan of kittens - doesn't give a crap about kittens, really - but she doesn't want to hurt them. She has paid attention to Laura's ethics obsession over the years, and also she's just too lazy.). Lockheed's wants are generally hedonistic and occasionally reach further than that. Mostly she wants the things she knows the other aspects don't want enough.
Lockheed's lip balm tastes of cherries (well, mainly sugar) and she thinks about cherries, about how they'll be perfectly perfectly in season so very soon. You get to make a wish on the first cherry of the year, and Lockheed thinks that's bollocks but she'll probably do it anyway on the offchance. She wonders if you get four wishes if there are four of you, or if she'll have to jump in and make her wish before Laura comes up with some bollocks about wanting someone to be happy, or Hare wishes for all-round joy, or -
Who knows what Effie wishes for.
The cherries are in the supermarkets and on the market stalls, but they're not ready yet, not Lockheed-ready. Lockheed hates underripe cherries, bitter in all the wrong ways. They're not worth touching until they're firm but *dark*, dark as good wine, and Lockheed thinks it's been too bloody long since she's had a glass of wine. Deep and rich and the first mouthful so buttery-tart and delicious, like someone mixed summer and autumn together and skimmed off the best of both. Why does she waste perfectly good occasions for drinking wine on bloody white wine? Tastes like the bastard-child of mouldy apples and sour water.
Lockheed licks at the cherries (well, the sugar) on her lips and thinks, okay, she'll wait. She'll wait until after exams, and she'll wait until it's a suitable social occasion, and she'll stop when the dancing's fun enough that Laura doesn't need it anymore, she'll stop when Laura's almost Lockheed. But she'll let her stay Laura. If Laura becomes Lockheed, becomes all about wanting, who'll do their thinking?
Lockheed's all about wanting, but she's not only about wanting. Necessary not sufficient, like the relationship between the level of booze and the fantasticness of the party. Or something. Gods she's glad they've dropped metaphysics.
So I don't know what this started off as, but it became something like a diary entry from Lockheed's point of view. She is less pathetically wangsty than Laura, I guess . . .
Lockheed's lip balm tastes of cherries. Mostly it tastes of sugar, actually, when she presses her tongue to the inside of her lip specifically to taste it. She chose it because she likes the thought that if she kisses someone, she'll taste like cherries - not that she's got anyone to kiss right now. She came into possession of the lip balm after Laura had already broken up with Steph, because of Laura's general inherent freakishness, and she wonders sometimes if Steph would have liked the taste of cherries. Or just sugar. Mostly sugar.
If she grabs a random pretty stranger to kiss them, she'll taste like cherries. Now that *is* a nice thought, one that would never occur to Laura, one that's as alien to Laura as the thought of just not *wearing* bloody clothes when it's too damn hot anyway. Laura ought to be grateful she has Lockheed, to think these things for her. Otherwise she'd be even more of a sad little freak girl than she already is. Or maybe less, heh. Lockheed doesn't mind being a freak so long as she has fun.
Lockheed thinks Laura would probably be happier if she acted on some of the thoughts Lockheed has, but Laura only ever contemplates that when she's drunk, which is probably about number three in the list of reasons why Lockheed thinks Laura ought to get drunk more (every now and then, Laura gets weird ideas about detoxing or whatever and just doesn't drink, eats vegan, writes in her diary a lot, and generally drives Lockheed crazy), just below 'because drunk-Laura is more fun' and 'because you'll never dance properly otherwise'.
The number one reason why Laura ought to drink more ("Lockheed," Laura says, in the voice she reserves especially for saying Lockheed's name that way, like it's Lockheed's damn fault these thoughts are in Laura's head any-bloody-way and Lockheed has to personify them) is because Lockheed just wants to be drunk, quite a lot. They've read Plato and Lockheed knows which part of the soul (Four, there are four quarters, not a triangle but a circle, something Laura and Lockheed, for once, both agree on) *she* is. She's the body, she's the appetite, and yeah, she's all about wanting. She doesn't see anything wrong with this. None of the things she wants are immoral in themselves - she doesn't want to hurt people unless they deserve it or she's feeling particularly ratty ("Lockheed." Laura says again, as if the thoughts aren't in her head anyway, as if were Lockheed not outvoted three to one they wouldn't have kicked the crap out of certain people long ago), she doesn't want to mess around with coke or heroin (are they immoral or just stupid? Sometimes it seems like the two have the same extension. Lockheed's been paying too much attention to Laura's revision. People do immoral things, sometimes, because they're fucking stupid. Sometimes it's more complicated than that. Lockheed gets why Laura doesn't understand that, and she gets why Laura's disturbed that she doesn't understand that, because Laura's a neurotic bag of twitchy nerves and caffeine and insecurities and if she doesn't understand something she's convinced it'll come back and bite her in the butt one of these days. Plus it's ethics, one of the main things Laura thinks about, and if Lockheed's all about wanting, Laura's all about thinking. Overthinking.), she doesn't want to nail kittens to planks of wood (Lockheed's not a big fan of kittens - doesn't give a crap about kittens, really - but she doesn't want to hurt them. She has paid attention to Laura's ethics obsession over the years, and also she's just too lazy.). Lockheed's wants are generally hedonistic and occasionally reach further than that. Mostly she wants the things she knows the other aspects don't want enough.
Lockheed's lip balm tastes of cherries (well, mainly sugar) and she thinks about cherries, about how they'll be perfectly perfectly in season so very soon. You get to make a wish on the first cherry of the year, and Lockheed thinks that's bollocks but she'll probably do it anyway on the offchance. She wonders if you get four wishes if there are four of you, or if she'll have to jump in and make her wish before Laura comes up with some bollocks about wanting someone to be happy, or Hare wishes for all-round joy, or -
Who knows what Effie wishes for.
The cherries are in the supermarkets and on the market stalls, but they're not ready yet, not Lockheed-ready. Lockheed hates underripe cherries, bitter in all the wrong ways. They're not worth touching until they're firm but *dark*, dark as good wine, and Lockheed thinks it's been too bloody long since she's had a glass of wine. Deep and rich and the first mouthful so buttery-tart and delicious, like someone mixed summer and autumn together and skimmed off the best of both. Why does she waste perfectly good occasions for drinking wine on bloody white wine? Tastes like the bastard-child of mouldy apples and sour water.
Lockheed licks at the cherries (well, the sugar) on her lips and thinks, okay, she'll wait. She'll wait until after exams, and she'll wait until it's a suitable social occasion, and she'll stop when the dancing's fun enough that Laura doesn't need it anymore, she'll stop when Laura's almost Lockheed. But she'll let her stay Laura. If Laura becomes Lockheed, becomes all about wanting, who'll do their thinking?
Lockheed's all about wanting, but she's not only about wanting. Necessary not sufficient, like the relationship between the level of booze and the fantasticness of the party. Or something. Gods she's glad they've dropped metaphysics.
So I don't know what this started off as, but it became something like a diary entry from Lockheed's point of view. She is less pathetically wangsty than Laura, I guess . . .