(Untitled)

[televisions]

show me your inspiration.

Comment this post with a picture that inspires you. It can be an image of anything at all, as long as it inspires you somehow. I'll write a (very) short piece about it for you.

Comments

[atomais]

[televisions]

[atomais]

don't give me that fais

[atomais]

that means you don't have to write anything about it, btdubs...

[televisions]

LMFAO GOOD, I WASN'T GOING TO

[glados]

[televisions]

The long years he spent grooming himself to perfection did not go unrewarded; he was welcomed initially for his shining, full coat, his deceptively innocent features. They flocked to him in those blissful early days.

He was content at first; subtle, overt, testing his boundaries. None of them understood what he was doing, understood his intentio I GIVE UP

[glados]

 

[glados]

[televisions]

The hose in Clay's hand was an uncomfortable reminder of the inevitable nightly meeting in his study, so Orel kept his distance, albeit unconsciously. While his father mocked his mother, he deliberately focused his gaze on the curtains behind the green of Clay's sweater, honouring him by refusing to acknowledge the lack of respect Clay showed Bloberta.

[glados]

[televisions]

Every day, half an hour before the bookstore opened, he entered the building through a side door and trudged wearily up the steps to the top floor. His days were a blur of cataloguing, sorting, clicking button and clacking keys, his eyes sore and bleary from staring at a monitor for too long before his focus suddenly wrenched away to the next box.

Each delivery added to the weight he felt, every volume that passed through his hands for inspection was a few ounces more to the gravity on his shoulders. He no longer felt the papercuts, no longer bandaged them; there simply weren't enough bandages. The drab colour of the cardboard had pierced so deep he no longer felt the wound inflicted by ugliness.

And yet, every day for half an hour he perused the results of his work, running his hands along the colourful spines he'd approved for shelving. With quiet pride his own spine straightened, and he never noticed the admiring glances from the people he ignored.