((Not mine, obviously))

The very first time I remember you, you are blonde and don’t love me back.
The next time you are brunette, and you do.
After a while I give up trying to guess if the colour of your hair means anything.
because even if you don’t exist, I am always in love with you.
I remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together,
when you share your secrets and sorrows and hiding places with me.
I love how you play along with my bad ideas,
before you grow up and realize they are bad ideas.
(And in our times together I have many bad ideas.)
When we meet as adults you’re always much more discerning. I don’t blame you.
Yet, always, you forgive me.
As if you understand what’s going on, and you’re making up for
all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn’t exist,
and the ones where we just, barely, never meet.
I hate those. I prefer the ones in which you kill me.
But when all’s said and done, I’d surrender to you in other ways.
Even though each time, I know I’ll see you again, I always wonder
is this the last time?
Is that really you?
And what if you’re perfectly happy
without me?
Ah, but I don’t blame you; I’ll never burn as brilliantly as you. It’s only fair
that I should be the one
to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes
until I find the one where you’ll return to me.

Screw Literature

I butchered a villanelle written for English Literature because I dislike writing structured poems. I might post that in a bit because this site is an archive, anyway.


It always begins the same, voices on the ascendant
Why yes, we’d very much like to get a rise out of each other
Harsh silence follows the slamming of the door

Pounding cobblestone and gravel to forget
Haunting the same old, same old places
I know you won’t be here when I return

Pick up the phone and then put it down
Pick up the phone and then shut it down

Accept the offerings; the climax wanes
Wordless thanks making up for lack of warmth
As expected, your gifts are still the same

It’s classic–sweetness after the storm
You remember how to play this, don’t you?
‘GAME OVER: >Continue or >Continue’

And finally we mark a mental date
Waiting for the next spark, I lie quietly
But I suppose I wouldn’t know anyway
But I’ve grown used to the endless hate anyway

Look, I know it’s a lame title (Transformice fanfiction)

Death Incoming!

The true meaning of ‘doomsday’. Humor and ‘horror’.

It’s all over. Today, I die. Oh, cruel world.

One by one, my tribemates disappear. Pixels melting away into the void that is my final destination. The TV blares music for nobody to listen to. Even our brave clan leader, even him:

‘Goodbye…’ I wouldn’t forget the despair written across his face and in his eyes and across his paws and tattooed on his belly.

It’s so empty. Those plush sofas are still warm from the mice that had just unwillingly vacated the scene.

Same in the vanilla rooms. I climb the wall all by myself, nibbling on the cheese- my last meal.

Nobody to share it with.

I think of my girlfriend. My mistress. My best friend. My clan leader. Who’s kinda hot. Even the dumb tribe newbies I was planning to haze by chucking cannonballs at them.

I will miss you all…

The sky is crumbling, oh, no shaman can help us now. Perhaps our Goddess will finally descend from the heavens to save us all. Or maybe, this is her doing. What if she’s doomed us all? We’re not worthy of her holiness. Not worthy of her holy wings. They’re larger than any I’ve ever seen. They’re beautiful. I want wings so badly. What was I talking about?

If the fury of the gods were to manifest itself, is there anything anyone can do about it?

I accept my fate.

• [SERVER] The server will restart in 2 minutes.

Happy 25th of July

Probability

(…)

This tiny slice passed to each other and handled so delicately, timing each and every pause, glance, and bated breath.

A spar? More like a fluttering of words, branching out into categories or endings; no backtracking now.

I am a hypocrite; I hide behind my veil of hidden meanings, weighing the words, while trying to decipher you, and I don’t know who I should blame when I fail to do so.

such cruelty, spinning round and round within the different pathways. Who?

I do not know the numbers. Is this the last such exchange? Possible, this dictates another ending/a different route to take/the same old, same old

I cannot see it. I cannot see you.

Working hard to get rid of the sugar, I present my thoughts, or so you think. Or so I think.

Can I replay this? Can I save this? Can I do it all over again?

I do not know, and I walk away, still imagining consequences.

hiatus: update

i’ve written like 20 pieces in the I swear I love drabble series, including some Interludes that are in a different format, but I won’t post them all at once because I want the series to be spread out. however I haven’t done too much else, other than a HUGE Touhou fic I’m super proud of

once I get that done it’s coming!! I’m super excited

as a writer I am incapable of writing long serieses with a coherent plot throughout, I prefer one-shots, but this fic is like my baby

it has some plot too

 

temporary break

yo, just got my mac back, it’s still making crackling sounds and safari crashes once every 5 mins, but i’ve got chrome so it’s all good

some of the keys don’t work but sigh this is still better than i could’ve hoped for, no data loss yet (?)

so there’s gonna be another hiatus while i sort things out and start grinding on fr, i’ve been away too long

creepy or not?

silence

blast a song. any song. a good song.

blast it 6 times until your ears are nauseous
tell me how it felt at the middle
and then what happens at the end?
i don’t know. i need you to keep playing it
i need to hear it. say anything. say cute things angry things
say my name

keep talking and talking till i wanna claw your eyes to shreds
i said blast that song 60 times