'Cause we were once intimate gods in the night...
...now all we've got is lunch-hour light, where nothing photographs well.
(Man, will I ever fall out of love with Vienna Teng? No, is the answer. The answer is no.)
I'm writing, today. Original fiction - well, original screenplay/comic book script, really. It's a fairy tale about a girl-Prince clothed in sunflowers in search of the Greatest Story Ever Told, and the sorceress who's currently writing it. It's silly and fun and gay and so, so pretty, in my head, and if I ever finish it Chiara says she'll illustrate it, which is super exciting forever.
I don't know. This is kind of a general-purpose update that no one will probably care about. I just didn't want to leave that "worried." post up when I'm feeling much better about life. Don't get me wrong, I am still worried - but she's texted me back finally and says that she's doing well.
As for me, I've cleaned my room - which doesn't sound like much, but it was a huge, three-hour undertaking, and it's cleaner now than it was when we moved in. I came home from class to find late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, glinting off the clean dishes and the gold-and-green masks on my desk, illuminating the spines of all my books. The air smells a little sweet, like honey and tea. It was just. I'm going to try my best to keep it like this.
PENNY NO ONE CARES HOW YOUR ROOM SMELLS, says Chiara in my head.
Um, again, not much interesting to say. I feel like I had an idea at the beginning of the post, but it's gone now. Whatever, whatever. Thank you for all your kind words on my last post, they really meant a lot.
I think maybe I'll try to post some more of that Broadway RPS sitting untitled and unposted in my google documents.
(Man, will I ever fall out of love with Vienna Teng? No, is the answer. The answer is no.)
I'm writing, today. Original fiction - well, original screenplay/comic book script, really. It's a fairy tale about a girl-Prince clothed in sunflowers in search of the Greatest Story Ever Told, and the sorceress who's currently writing it. It's silly and fun and gay and so, so pretty, in my head, and if I ever finish it Chiara says she'll illustrate it, which is super exciting forever.
I don't know. This is kind of a general-purpose update that no one will probably care about. I just didn't want to leave that "worried." post up when I'm feeling much better about life. Don't get me wrong, I am still worried - but she's texted me back finally and says that she's doing well.
As for me, I've cleaned my room - which doesn't sound like much, but it was a huge, three-hour undertaking, and it's cleaner now than it was when we moved in. I came home from class to find late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, glinting off the clean dishes and the gold-and-green masks on my desk, illuminating the spines of all my books. The air smells a little sweet, like honey and tea. It was just. I'm going to try my best to keep it like this.
PENNY NO ONE CARES HOW YOUR ROOM SMELLS, says Chiara in my head.
Um, again, not much interesting to say. I feel like I had an idea at the beginning of the post, but it's gone now. Whatever, whatever. Thank you for all your kind words on my last post, they really meant a lot.
I think maybe I'll try to post some more of that Broadway RPS sitting untitled and unposted in my google documents.