Well, I did write on vacation (contrary to my earlier post, in which I said I wouldn't have a writing obligation on vacation ever again). However, I didn't write one post every day (contrary to this post, in which I said I would) because I was highly inspired to write my actual story (DWBSN rework).
In other words, I need to get my obligations figured out.
Heh heh heh.
Anyway, starting with this post, I'll be putting up the posts that I did write (which all ended up being an amalgamation of character bios that I've been wanting to do for a while and muses), one per day as usual. Hope you enjoy!
She's everything that attracts me: dark, expansive, and unsearchable, flashing by with ruminative white noise and hiding stigmas of poverty and crime under exquisite stars of beauty. I love her game; I love how she presents her glory upfront and hides her disgrace beneath, the quintessential hostess with no doubts and no struggles.
In other words, I need to get my obligations figured out.
Heh heh heh.
Anyway, starting with this post, I'll be putting up the posts that I did write (which all ended up being an amalgamation of character bios that I've been wanting to do for a while and muses), one per day as usual. Hope you enjoy!
~ ~ ~
She's everything that attracts me: dark, expansive, and unsearchable, flashing by with ruminative white noise and hiding stigmas of poverty and crime under exquisite stars of beauty. I love her game; I love how she presents her glory upfront and hides her disgrace beneath, the quintessential hostess with no doubts and no struggles.
In a better world, though, I've wished that she would truly be the entity that she claims she is.
I've watched her from afar often, always lulled by her graceful stature. At first, I just enjoyed watching her blink and move by me, her black velvet dress studded with diamonds. She was melodic and eerily elegant, and I was magnetized by that charm. Years later, though, I saw her filthy scars for what they were: jagged skin-pink swaths of shame, resignation, and oppressive power. Physically, I wanted to run far away and escape confrontation, but, emotionally, I couldn't escape my desire for her heights and allures.
Now, after many painful confrontations - I'd rage at her, she'd strike my face with an icy hand - I think we're comfortably just friends, tied by mutual need and by empathy.
She tries to hide her sins; I do too.
But the fact is: she's still a sinner.
She's my city at night, the confinement of urban life.
One day, I want to live in her, to walk her cracked, dirty streets with my earbuds drowning out her cries, to change her from the inside out. I'm no longer afraid of her moral dearth or of the mortal dross that collects in her darkest wrinkles; I want to feel her vibrancy and meet the soul-cells that flow through her veins, no matter how many of my own short-comings I'll have to reveal in the process.
One day, I want to be strong and majestic like she is, building my systems out of her flesh and expanding her with my own resources and abilities. One day, I want to have seen her changed by me, so I can finally love at least my own part of refined her.
~ ~ ~
Written on the ride to Destin, Florida - 8:00 P.M. to 1:30 A.M.
Write on!
Clove
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