Aug 06, 2010 23:39
And so it seems that the waiting has drawn to a close. Everybody's asking what's next, but who really knows? Certainly not me, other than that I'll flee. One suitcase, one backpack, and the wind at my back forevermore, newborn and just slightly sore. For now I still kill time with the rotted fruit of the local vines, attempting not to become acinine, to turn the blind eye.
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And on the other side who could have predicted I'd so quickly get addicted to that which I was formerly compared to in afflictions? I'll be practicing my diction for the winter in a town slightly north of where I thought to land, but he's taken my hand, and it's so much easier to stand. A priceless education to be gained, sheets to stain, collars to chain, and once again to be engulfed in passions flames.
How glorious, that it should be he who seemed so notorious til he reigned down victorious upon my whorishness. And at his lap I'll sit, to dote upon his every word, though some find the concept quite absurd (I've never been fond of running with herds, quite content to hide with other nerds). There is much to be gained, and only my own designs will selfstain, the rest can float down the drain while I catch the early train.