[text] with a face like that
Damn it. My head hurts but that's not really true is it it's just a metaphor I don't get sick, really, I don't. They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. Sick with sin sick of sin sick of want but never ill, never enough to take leave or bedrest bedrest with a pretty young orderly or maybe a nurse, her crawling all over my lap just like a spider, all simpering and smiling. Even here in the City a girl would be nice, I'm not particular, I'm never particular, blonde or brunette, angel, human, something worse than either. Not a worldly girl but a girl, a soft, beautiful little fool to promise the world to, kiss and suck her fingers and watch her eyes light up and hate her even more then
I need something to take my mind off this, at home it was easier (was easier) because
there was a rhythm to life, slowslowslow and I knew exactly where I stood and I accepted it, I liked it liar, a cog in the machine, wasting divinity wasting eternity right up until just lately, right up until the Savior, right up until G--
Sara. I'm worried about Sar--
I never thought about it before, what it might mean not to have a tyrant at your back dictating what's acceptable what won't get you killed vital signs in a hundred bedrooms the scent of lilies but this place is a taste-- minus the responsibility of course, I think, and it's unpleasant. There's no spark now, nothing to defy, no reason and I don't care for it, I really don't and all that ties me down that even remembers is Rosiel and he's gone utterly mad, nothing like he was so long ago, I shouldn't bother speaking to him the war's just a put-on but it's habit, it's custom, it's some twisted, decayed part of atziluth all I'll get of it but I'm not one to talk am I.
I think-- I know I need to stop this is irrelevant but I can't it's like I'm possessed but that can't be the case no demon's kiss on my hand or brow or is it a curse yes I think
(OOC: Hit, and hit hard, with the No Inner Monologue curse. Strikes are readable.)
I need something to take my mind off this, at home it was easier (was easier) because
there was a rhythm to life, slowslowslow and I knew exactly where I stood and I accepted it, I liked it liar, a cog in the machine, wasting divinity wasting eternity right up until just lately, right up until the Savior, right up until G--
Sara. I'm worried about Sar--
I never thought about it before, what it might mean not to have a tyrant at your back dictating what's acceptable what won't get you killed vital signs in a hundred bedrooms the scent of lilies but this place is a taste-- minus the responsibility of course, I think, and it's unpleasant. There's no spark now, nothing to defy, no reason and I don't care for it, I really don't and all that ties me down that even remembers is Rosiel and he's gone utterly mad, nothing like he was so long ago, I shouldn't bother speaking to him the war's just a put-on but it's habit, it's custom, it's some twisted, decayed part of atziluth all I'll get of it but I'm not one to talk am I.
I think-- I know I need to stop this is irrelevant but I can't it's like I'm possessed but that can't be the case no demon's kiss on my hand or brow or is it a curse yes I think
(OOC: Hit, and hit hard, with the No Inner Monologue curse. Strikes are readable.)