ivpiter's whims: spirits

im in spirits today. good? bad? youre asking the wrong questions here my friend

“What does your voice sound like? What games do you love best? Do you collect butterflies?"

why has nobody asked me this?


.caesar "svcl tl hnhpu"

stop choking already. spit it out. spill blood from your mouth and spill tears from your hands. just let it go, just let it go!

well then! halfway through march is only 10 months away now. i dont think im ready though.

and where are her arms now? i cut them off and threw them to her, think she ever wore another glove? i hope she does, clothing was her birthright

and what gloves she wore, found priceless for cheap, found gold in a fool


.caesar "kvua"


think i cant help myself? think im special? think, at all, and youre already misdone
its hard not to think when the alternative is so forgettable

just how many times have i forgotten now? my nancy drew always remembered

she reads about the real stories of real girls, and i stick my nose in artifice

the trees couldve told me it would end up this way a long time ago had i only asked. i should have asked her to ask for me, and early, because i could never have.

for heaven's sake, wont you release the birds from your cage? there is only the owl on your head that you should listen to. it chose to nest there because you never cut your hair.
(think youll change that way? think youre special? who are you talking to? me?)


.caesar "tl, whwhnluv"


kp. for me. not for you. was for us. not for two. but i couldnt keep one as one.

its a mathematical issue! a question of factoring! ignore my exclamation!
(clever?)

im the lower, youre the greater

im the common, youre not there at all

and now my mind is water and they all drink it like birds in a pond.

forget it, im moving out. im moving back in, but leaving the house alone. itll be a quiet living. silent and charming. silver and gold. gilded and old. painted and homely. solitary, with cold brick and old windows, and young and old children in who are always going to be there. its their house, after all.

Rubidgea. something anglic, something fierce. an old dog. maybe it can teach me a trick. no, not you. its not alive. its paved and christian and a secret in plain sight and its two-hundred years old. we wont meet with it in the same building, but sometimes, when youre thirsty, youll be closer than you ever know. ill be locking the door when that happens, and closing the curtains, and facing the wall.

last time she and he were together there, it didnt go well, so its verboten. heavens forbid. its for the best.

last time she and i were nearby, it was so nice, but im not allowed to remember it anymore after what ive done.


.caeser{+7}


and maybe, just maybe, i can change

just maybe, i can find myself again

just maybe, i can be forgiven in the eyes of heaven

the sun will always look at me with scorn and burn, and my skin will char whenever she stares

but maybe i can shed

maybe, just maybe...

all i can do is try, i suppose

close the chest, the gold has turned to coal. try a different alchemy. approach a different humour. provoke a different cheer. read a different book. trust a different heaven.

lets see where i go