Sunday, December 10, 2017

The lights are off but the room is illuminated every few minutes by flashes of lightning. Bram sits on the floor, holding a mug in his hand as he stares at the black sky and pouring rain. Inside, it is safe. Inside it is dry.

Another flash of lightning, and his eyes narrow. Standing, he places the cup on a small table near the glass door.

"Casey," he murmurs as he slides the door open in one violent motion. The dog perks immediately from the shadows and pads to her master's heels. She follows him without hesitation out into the rain.

Jamie Scott - unbreakable

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Thursday, November 23, 2017

What's your...

favourite colour? 

favourite book? 
Aaaargh!!! Sunshine probably. 

favourite song? 
Depends on my mood. But Ed Sheeran's I See Fire is always a good bet. 

favourite food? 
Um... chocolate? 

favourite animal? 

favourite shirt? 
the white one

favourite smells? 
flowers! and coffee

favourite movie?
Spirited Away

Do you know that...

your outfit weirds people out occasionally? 
Sometimes I figure it out when I get home and see what I'm actually wearing, haha. 

your friends sometimes wonder if you're alcoholic?
I'm not though?
This might be because someone said, "I drink three cans of beer every night" and I said, "but that's not a lot." Everyone stared at me. But come on. We've heard people say "I drink one bottle of rice wine a night" before. 

you're short? 
I'm fun sized

you're short? 

you talk too much and tell too many random stories? 
God, yes. 

you laugh at inappropriate times...
I tried to keep it in! 

....or sometimes for no apparent reason at all?
sometimes things just pop into my mind and I find it hilarious. 

your neighbours can hear you 'singing' in the shower?
You're kidding, right? 

you're occasionally smart?
well, thank you.

you space out too much?
life gets overstimulating.

you don't study enough?
hahahhahhahahahahhahahahahhHAHAHAHAHA yeah I know

you like Japan too much?
sadly....especially since I doubt Japan likes me. But hey it's a beautiful country. With good food!

you write too many emo posts?
it had to go somewhere.

you could stand to lose some weight?
that's a nice way to put it. *wink wink*

you look freaky when you open your eyes real wide?

you have a real bad temper?
scares me sometimes.

you like to try many things and settle on none?
Mmm. But how do you know what's right for you if all you've ever known is one?

you have strange sleeping habits?
sigh. where to begin?

no one really cares about not eating animals?
I kind of do.

you need to get over yourself?
yes. One day. Eventually.

but you're still a pretty good person?
Aw, don't make me cry. 

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

So what do you say? When we're 60? 

How about 59? 

You know it's all arbitrary. 

Who thought this was all a good idea? 

Imagine Dragons - not today

Thursday, November 16, 2017

He swallowed. 

That's how the story begins.


I once read something along these lines:

Think about something you absolutely don't want people to know about you - something about your character, your desires and wants. 

Now consider the possibility that everyone already knows it. 

Within the first five minutes of conversation most people can see through us and intuit things we don't know about ourselves. It's almost certain that the things you're ashamed about yourself are things your friends already know. So act with that knowledge. Learn self-deprecating humour. Learn to live with your vulnerabilities in the open. 

So today I had a conversation with a friend and we spoke about pain and suffering. But I'm not wise. I'm not very smart. What am I then?

I try to joke about the things I hate most about myself, because I know - even though I always used to hope otherwise - that these ugly sides of me are apparent. I've been called out on them before. I've read the looks before.

Sometimes, though, it gets too painful to joke about. Sometimes I wish very much that I were different, but I'm afraid if I take that step the ground will fall out under my feet.

Lucius - two of us on the run

Thursday, November 9, 2017

There's a fire in the middle of the room, its flickering light barely touching the encroaching gloom. The darkness is almost tangible, a black fog that slaps off the tendrils of flame. 

Near the fire, occasionally visible is a pair of hands. They're clasped together, the arms and body shrouded in darkness. A pair of feet bundled in thick woollen socks. On the opposite side of the fire, a black snout. Two tiny raccoon paws. The sound of breathing, long and deep. Occasionally the raccoon snuffles. 

The room is cold and the fire is dying by the minute. Outside snow falls silently, piling up to the windows. It is the coldest winter in many years, and the coldest night of the winter. 

Thursday, October 19, 2017

I don't feel like writing anything with those two lumpy posts sitting down there. So let's do some housecleaning.