voice ☆ december 29th, evening.
I've got a question for you, Death City. How do you cope? With sadness, with anger, with... disappointment? [Her voice is exasperated, suggesting this question is more relevant to her than random curiosity.] I'm reckless. I react poorly and I avoid the issue at all costs; I'll do anything to keep my mind out of that dark, lonely place that leads me down a path that is only self-damaging. [Except it somehow usually ends up there, anyway...]
[Everything she's saying is more telling than it may appear at first glance, though like a true magician, she's only letting the audience see (and in this case, hear) what she wants them to. Each word is deliberate.] And... while you're at it, what about remedies for the Winter Blues? I think I might have already managed to have caught them.
[Everything she's saying is more telling than it may appear at first glance, though like a true magician, she's only letting the audience see (and in this case, hear) what she wants them to. Each word is deliberate.] And... while you're at it, what about remedies for the Winter Blues? I think I might have already managed to have caught them.