|friends only: comment to be considered| [ August 7th, 2012 @ 6:08pm ] [ mood | cold ] There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out, but I'm too tough for him. I say: "Stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you." There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out, but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke. And the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there. There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out, but I'm too tough for him. I say: "Stay down, do you want to mess me up? Do you want to screw up the works? Do you want to blow my book sales in Europe?" There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out, but I'm too clever. I only let him out at night sometimes, when everybody's asleep. I say: "I know that you're there, so don't be sad." Then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die. And we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep... But I don't weep, do you? |Bluebird - Charles Bukowski| ( Tags. ) ( Rules and Application. ) 1

[ December 10th, 2007 @ 10:51am ] I got rec'd: http://devian-11.livejournal.com/8622.html [: 2

|palisades! palisades! i can wait, i can wait.| [ October 28th, 2007 @ 3:28pm ] [ mood | blank ] I RELENTED TO THE AS/S ship. -shames self- But, here we go: title; we don't see so clearly (now that we're on each other's side) series; HP pairing; Albus and Scorpius. Sort of. rating; PG? summary; Scorpius has never talked to the boy, but small things are what make Albus Potter quite interesting. ( (A messy curve of his lips. A china doll's. Comic.) ) 13

|Surprise!fics for someone's birthday on my f-list. Haha.| [ October 27th, 2007 @ 12:28pm ] [ mood | amused ] title; we were once like you series; ynm rating; PG-13. Vaguely. notes; ...Um. Incoherent. You'll know why in a moment. ( (the summer roads and the roar of fire. the roiling tongues of orangeorange---) ) title; what little hope has gone series; ynm rating; PG-13. For certain. notes; Pretentious lack of capitalization, ahoy. ( (you damaged your optical nerves, watari had mentioned, and he could feel the way his voice was trying not to be mangled by sickness...) ) 13

[ October 9th, 2007 @ 2:05pm ] [ mood | cold ] title; the marrow of murmurs series; Yami no Matsuei genre; Darkfic. Gore. Et cetera. Lots and lots of mental instability and bones and sinew and blood. pairing; Maybe if you squint. A lot. A real fucking lot. notes; I...Well, you get to see more of the real writing style I use. It was...A good relief. Sort of. Well, I suppose it is a little more like my "novel writing," style. A tad more coherent. ( (a very small part of him is gagged by it. whimpering soft and slow and sorry that it shouldn't have been so severe. it shouldn't have been ---) )

|it just has to be public| [ October 7th, 2007 @ 3:44pm ] [ mood | bored ] ... Someone just PMed me on FF.net and asked if they could borrow my fanfiction writing style. I mean, its a nice compliment, but I told that it wasn't socially acceptable in the world of authors, unless you're writing a satire. I told her very politely she would get nothing out of the experience, given the fact she would be unable to replicate it, as it all comes down to individual function, word choice, et cetera. I told her it would be much better to stick with her own, individual style, as people value uniqueness in voice when reading. I hope she listens, we don't need more mimics in the writing world than we already have.

[ October 4th, 2007 @ 9:08pm ] [ mood | busy ] MEME TIME. Yes, I am spamming your journals because I happen to like doing so, so please keep in mind that at least I'm posting at all. ♥ Sam. I need to stop stealing from you. :D ( Ten fandoms. Ten characters. Ten pairings. ) 1

|and enter lulling guitar riff| [ October 1st, 2007 @ 4:15pm ] [ mood | calm ] Stolen from Sam. [: I did it multiple times, understandably. ( Character similarities meme. ) 1

|the sweetest sadness in your eyes. . .a clever trick| [ September 22nd, 2007 @ 12:46pm ] [ mood | blank ] A list of five facts you did not know about me. (taken from: betterifbruised) 1. I like to drive in the later hours, when the roads are empty and all I can hear is my own music blasting and the way my voice sounds in the din of the night. When, in my fingers, I can feel the roughness of the handle as I roll down the window and crane my neck, and smile because no one is watching and no one can see, in my eyes, what I am truly thinking. 2. On dark roads, I turn off my headlights and take to the other side of the street. It reminds me that I am young, "immortal," and free. It reminds me that I do not have to know a single, truthful thing. (I have time.) 3. In my childhood, I would always wake up early and just so I could taste the air in the morning and see the world as I thought it should be, foggy and coated with aerosol-golden-gleams. 4. I did not start writing one day and decided I liked it. I just wrote, because it was the only thing that was forgiving of me. (Paper does not judge the hands that touch it, at least not always.) 5. I have always liked being left-handed. I like the smudges. The darkened way of graphite on my palepale skin and the way my hand twists to conform to odd, irregular shapes. (It reminds me that I am, no matter how hard I try, vulnerable too.) 4

|in a telescope lens, when all you want is friends| [ September 19th, 2007 @ 11:46pm ] [ mood | listless ] For thepinkangel, because I am going to full out admit right here and now despite my completely idiotic fear of emotional vulnerability, that I absolutely adore you. You are a wonderful person. Ad infinitum. title; ad augusta per angusta prompt; September 20: Your heart is an empty room. series; ynm notes; A strange little piece that connects with on setting new fires. previous parts; with darker skin and wider eyes, what defines desire? ( the scent of burning bones. the ashen way of miles. the nights he spent curled in on himself. dead seas. salt and sheets and sweat. the sinkingfalling of his limbs into unshakable nets. ) 4

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