I feel wholely inadequate.
Every person I have conjured a mere replicate of some more successful character.
William, Elsie, Tom, Sophie, Susie, Mag, Danny, Moore, that father figure, that faceless mother, and that tragic boy.
Products of angst.
Language, my medium?
The brush to paint the colours of my mind?
It is a broken one.
Broken and dulled by the waters of a lake called Vainglory.
Cry now and understand why she left you.
Know now, why she sent that postcard.
Economy of expression?
You squandered it.
Penniless.
Guilty.
I scoff at you now.
No, not hopeless.
Go.
Go out and earn your keep.
Don't return until you might have enough to lure her back.
Tempt her to returning.
Try.
I dare you to.
Afterall, what else have you got to lose?
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4 comments:
has your mailbox recently received some form of love coming from the outback? =)
Michael has funny ears. Haha.
Someday, I hope to read about William, Elsie, Tom, Sophie, Susie, Mag, Danny, Moore, that father figure, that faceless mother, and that tragic boy.
mel: yes! i finally received it yesterday! happy as a f*cking lark. haha. i'll write back asap.
cristalbelle: they're pixie ears and have an irish origin. i'm proud of them. haha.
julian: i gave you the link and you might not enjoy reading about them. haha. thankyou, julian.
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