"who's seen jezebel? she was certainly the spark for all i've done"
It feels like Spring outside; and it's throwing me off. On Friday it had to have been at least twenty degrees, and now it's fifty, and it's really odd because it's definitely not Spring. It's not even the middle of January yet. I guess I should relish in the warmth while it lasts, worry over the state of the environment, and ready my brightly colored tights and floofy skirts. My mom got me this wonderful reversible hoodie for Christmas; I love it because it flares up any outfit that I'm wearing. I can reverse it and it has a greenish-chartreuse pattern on the opposite side. It's thick and warm, and I've been wearing it just about everywhere. Even while I'm at work, it's sitting on the back of my chair. D:
There was a trip to Goodwill yesterday, and I picked out two nice skirts that I was really fond of. One goes down to my ankles, and is made out of the soft material that they make sweatpants out of; the second is short, black, and rather floofy. It flares out at the bottom, and has a bundled quality to it. It also has a tie that goes along the back of the waist, and I feel like Sailor Moon when I'm wearing it. The third is just grey, goes down to my knees, and has two little flares at the bottom. I thought it would look cute with some knee socks.
I couldn't resist looking at the books while I was there, so I also came home with a copy of Frankenstein and a book of twenty-five Turkish short stories. I now have plenty of reading material for the next year.
I got sick of my layout again and changed it. I can't seem to be happy with it-I think I'm on to something this time. I still need to play around with the cascading stylesheets, but I think I can be content with it.
-
The following little drabble is for indesolution, after both Kilik shows up and Spitfire comes to get Simca. It's still incoherent mush right now, but I wanted to get a lot of thoughts and ideas down before I actually posted it on the log community. It's here because I really felt like sharing it! I haven't written like this in a long time, and the whole situation between them kinda struck a good cord with me.
who's seen jezebel? she was born to be the woman i would know
and hold like the breeze half as tight as both our eyes closed
The dull ache that accompanied her ever since she parted from her Brother was that; a dull ache, the same pain she got when she tumbled and fell on her rear, or when someone managed to say something mean enough that shocked her. She had thought at once it might have been greater, but she had dealt with the it for so long that she had no way to compare the waning and waxing of her pain from then to now. She had become used to it, and that's what made it bearable.
When her brother arrived, the once dull ache in her heart turned to something so great that it shook her, and left her bare and naked and thrown in the open for everyone to see. A greater longing reached out and spun spiny fingers around her heart, squeezing until she cried out in pain. Every one of his words was like a gentle barb ("My Sky is already here. I want to give you yours," she said. "We were always meant to find our Sky together, Sister. We already found it once, and I do not see it here. If you are referring to him, then you are mistaken," was his reply.), betraying one memory at a time. Knowing that he was close, and being unable to stand with him because of their former beliefs was like reaching through caged bars toward the Sky. He had not changed at all, he had never changed. Somehow, though his ideals had changed and transformed into a beast sleeping in the clearing of a sleeping forest, his chipped teeth were still glaringly bore. If it could have rained in Babylon, it would have rained then.
Spitfire responded immediately, and she was sure that he had already warned Kazu-kun of the danger. He came to collect her, wrapping his arms around her and hushing her until she was no longer trembling; and then carrying her off back toward his apartment. She had stripped her layers of clothing, each one falling to the floor as Spitfire drew a bath.
Nothing seemed to wash away, and she was reminded, now that he brother was here, of the memories that she kept hidden away for times like these. The time when Spitfire had worn that ridiculous headband and somehow managed to convince her that it was in style. He was the only one that could do that. There he was now, trying to make light conversation about trivial things with her as his fingers traveled against the bare skin of her back. It was his way of getting her mind of her Brother, his gentle words reassuring, light enough to cause her breath to calm.
But it didn't work. It had been years since Kilik had locked himself in the top of the Tower, but she could still remember his every detail. The sound of his voice (quiet, usually), and his scent (the shampoo he used, mixed with the artificial smell of the Tower, sometimes, he smelled like rain), and the beat of his heart. When she couldn't sleep, he wouldn't either, and they'd lay together until the other fell asleep. There was no mother, no father, all they had were the two of them to take care of each other; and they worked as a unit. They'd finish each other's sentences, split the chores without saying a word, and do things together for the first time as if they had already made a habit of it. Knowing he was here, and feeling separated from those things made her feel sick; dragging her heart in the open for everyone to see.
There was a trip to Goodwill yesterday, and I picked out two nice skirts that I was really fond of. One goes down to my ankles, and is made out of the soft material that they make sweatpants out of; the second is short, black, and rather floofy. It flares out at the bottom, and has a bundled quality to it. It also has a tie that goes along the back of the waist, and I feel like Sailor Moon when I'm wearing it. The third is just grey, goes down to my knees, and has two little flares at the bottom. I thought it would look cute with some knee socks.
I couldn't resist looking at the books while I was there, so I also came home with a copy of Frankenstein and a book of twenty-five Turkish short stories. I now have plenty of reading material for the next year.
I got sick of my layout again and changed it. I can't seem to be happy with it-I think I'm on to something this time. I still need to play around with the cascading stylesheets, but I think I can be content with it.
-
The following little drabble is for indesolution, after both Kilik shows up and Spitfire comes to get Simca. It's still incoherent mush right now, but I wanted to get a lot of thoughts and ideas down before I actually posted it on the log community. It's here because I really felt like sharing it! I haven't written like this in a long time, and the whole situation between them kinda struck a good cord with me.
who's seen jezebel? she was born to be the woman i would know
and hold like the breeze half as tight as both our eyes closed
The dull ache that accompanied her ever since she parted from her Brother was that; a dull ache, the same pain she got when she tumbled and fell on her rear, or when someone managed to say something mean enough that shocked her. She had thought at once it might have been greater, but she had dealt with the it for so long that she had no way to compare the waning and waxing of her pain from then to now. She had become used to it, and that's what made it bearable.
When her brother arrived, the once dull ache in her heart turned to something so great that it shook her, and left her bare and naked and thrown in the open for everyone to see. A greater longing reached out and spun spiny fingers around her heart, squeezing until she cried out in pain. Every one of his words was like a gentle barb ("My Sky is already here. I want to give you yours," she said. "We were always meant to find our Sky together, Sister. We already found it once, and I do not see it here. If you are referring to him, then you are mistaken," was his reply.), betraying one memory at a time. Knowing that he was close, and being unable to stand with him because of their former beliefs was like reaching through caged bars toward the Sky. He had not changed at all, he had never changed. Somehow, though his ideals had changed and transformed into a beast sleeping in the clearing of a sleeping forest, his chipped teeth were still glaringly bore. If it could have rained in Babylon, it would have rained then.
Spitfire responded immediately, and she was sure that he had already warned Kazu-kun of the danger. He came to collect her, wrapping his arms around her and hushing her until she was no longer trembling; and then carrying her off back toward his apartment. She had stripped her layers of clothing, each one falling to the floor as Spitfire drew a bath.
Nothing seemed to wash away, and she was reminded, now that he brother was here, of the memories that she kept hidden away for times like these. The time when Spitfire had worn that ridiculous headband and somehow managed to convince her that it was in style. He was the only one that could do that. There he was now, trying to make light conversation about trivial things with her as his fingers traveled against the bare skin of her back. It was his way of getting her mind of her Brother, his gentle words reassuring, light enough to cause her breath to calm.
But it didn't work. It had been years since Kilik had locked himself in the top of the Tower, but she could still remember his every detail. The sound of his voice (quiet, usually), and his scent (the shampoo he used, mixed with the artificial smell of the Tower, sometimes, he smelled like rain), and the beat of his heart. When she couldn't sleep, he wouldn't either, and they'd lay together until the other fell asleep. There was no mother, no father, all they had were the two of them to take care of each other; and they worked as a unit. They'd finish each other's sentences, split the chores without saying a word, and do things together for the first time as if they had already made a habit of it. Knowing he was here, and feeling separated from those things made her feel sick; dragging her heart in the open for everyone to see.