So! Hi! Hello! It's been a little while! I probably need to catalogue a LOT of things. And then I'm going to write a bit of prose because I promised myself that I would. So, there's that to look forward to at the end, lovely.
Jeez, how far back to go?
The Witches ended. I don't think I did a post about The Witches ending, good lord, we've got a lot of ground to cover. So The Witches ended - phenomenal show, phenomenal people. The poster is on my wall, the cast photo is on my wall, the lines WON'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD and every now and then I sit for a bit and sigh and realise that the whole she-bang is over and I don't get to do it anymore. I met some amazing people. I did some amazing things. There were some amazing in-jokes (Millie's ready for dinner! Diagon Alley! Honey badger don't give a shit! Ah, in a year's time I'm going to look back and think I'm insane!) and all in all I was a part of a show that I'm insanely proud of.
"It doesn't matter who you are, or what you look like, as long as somebody loves you."
So. There's that. What happened next? My birthday happened! Yes, I'm now 19. That isn't going to get a special post to itself this year because I don't have a long list of gifts to catalogue and a whole lot of insane expectations this year. I'm 19. 19 is a number. I recieved one very amazing gift and I went out to dinner with friends. It was a good time. I spent the actual birthday alone in my room feeling morbid, which I think is the proper way to spend a birthday, but the dinner on the following day was very good. Let's move on from that. I'm 19, hurrah, hurrah. /throws paper streamers around the place.
Now on to less lovely things. Last week I had to move out of the Team Galactic house and into a sharehouse. I had to do this incredibly quickly, because I was being threatened with physical violence. I'm not going to go into the why and the how of it all because that's just going to make me feel bitter about everything (which I am, oh so very bitter - I mean, seriously? Over a fucking toilet? Did you just wake up and decide that being a cunt would be fun that da - okay, yeah, let's not go over it) but I will mention it here because this is a very abrupt end to something that I dedicated a very large portion of my life to. I loved Baesty, Jennifer, whatever you want to call her. I loved her like I've never loved anybody else on this planet; unconditionally, completely, utterly, with every inch of me. And in the end that was a bad, bad, bad thing, because for whatever reason she decided that I wasn't worth respect, and when somebody that you love that much won't treat you with respect, how can you respect yourself? So I no longer love her, just like that. I loved her for almost three years with everything I had and over the past two weeks I've had to shut that off like a tap. And somehow I've managed it. My self-preservation instinct is very strong. I suppose in a way it's a shame that she never had any interest in my blog, but then again, this probably isn't saying anything she didn't already conclude. Oh well.
Oh, and as an endnote on that whole situation - Brans, you're a cunt, and I'm a cunt, and for a while we were each other's cunts. At the end of it all, you were the only reason I was still living there, and although when I actually left you were the only person who abused me on the way out, I can't bring myself to mind. Sorry. You shouldn't have taken the side against me.
Right, enough of that, let's move on to something fantastic.
I have a boyfriend.
Me. A boyfriend. One that I want to be with and want to be monogamous with and do all of those lovely things. It's infatuation and romance and sheer, incredible lust and everything that's emotional and lovely and all those things that I didn't think I could feel for another person just erupting out of me in horrifying explosions of happiness and gay.
Keep your distance, people. Things could get messy.
Now I'm going to write a bit of prose.
Chained.
Threads of silk,
Stronger than steel,
Bound me to feel.
Marked your skin,
Marked my soul,
Swallow me whole.
Tie your binds to the foot of my bed,
Tie your face to the dreams in my head,
Tie my hands as my heart runs red -
I'm not dead.
Take my life, out into the night.
Take my eyes, for you're all in my sight.
Take my strength, take all of my might -
You blaze bright.
Collared neck,
And trusting eyes,
Pierce my lies.
Willing hands,
And smoothest skin,
Draw me in.
There. That'll do for the evening.
So. There's that. What happened next? My birthday happened! Yes, I'm now 19. That isn't going to get a special post to itself this year because I don't have a long list of gifts to catalogue and a whole lot of insane expectations this year. I'm 19. 19 is a number. I recieved one very amazing gift and I went out to dinner with friends. It was a good time. I spent the actual birthday alone in my room feeling morbid, which I think is the proper way to spend a birthday, but the dinner on the following day was very good. Let's move on from that. I'm 19, hurrah, hurrah. /throws paper streamers around the place.
Now on to less lovely things. Last week I had to move out of the Team Galactic house and into a sharehouse. I had to do this incredibly quickly, because I was being threatened with physical violence. I'm not going to go into the why and the how of it all because that's just going to make me feel bitter about everything (which I am, oh so very bitter - I mean, seriously? Over a fucking toilet? Did you just wake up and decide that being a cunt would be fun that da - okay, yeah, let's not go over it) but I will mention it here because this is a very abrupt end to something that I dedicated a very large portion of my life to. I loved Baesty, Jennifer, whatever you want to call her. I loved her like I've never loved anybody else on this planet; unconditionally, completely, utterly, with every inch of me. And in the end that was a bad, bad, bad thing, because for whatever reason she decided that I wasn't worth respect, and when somebody that you love that much won't treat you with respect, how can you respect yourself? So I no longer love her, just like that. I loved her for almost three years with everything I had and over the past two weeks I've had to shut that off like a tap. And somehow I've managed it. My self-preservation instinct is very strong. I suppose in a way it's a shame that she never had any interest in my blog, but then again, this probably isn't saying anything she didn't already conclude. Oh well.
Oh, and as an endnote on that whole situation - Brans, you're a cunt, and I'm a cunt, and for a while we were each other's cunts. At the end of it all, you were the only reason I was still living there, and although when I actually left you were the only person who abused me on the way out, I can't bring myself to mind. Sorry. You shouldn't have taken the side against me.
Right, enough of that, let's move on to something fantastic.
I have a boyfriend.
Me. A boyfriend. One that I want to be with and want to be monogamous with and do all of those lovely things. It's infatuation and romance and sheer, incredible lust and everything that's emotional and lovely and all those things that I didn't think I could feel for another person just erupting out of me in horrifying explosions of happiness and gay.
Keep your distance, people. Things could get messy.
Now I'm going to write a bit of prose.
Chained.
Threads of silk,
Stronger than steel,
Bound me to feel.
Marked your skin,
Marked my soul,
Swallow me whole.
Tie your binds to the foot of my bed,
Tie your face to the dreams in my head,
Tie my hands as my heart runs red -
I'm not dead.
Take my life, out into the night.
Take my eyes, for you're all in my sight.
Take my strength, take all of my might -
You blaze bright.
Collared neck,
And trusting eyes,
Pierce my lies.
Willing hands,
And smoothest skin,
Draw me in.
There. That'll do for the evening.
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