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(this is not for you.)

:mea dragoste:

Created on 2003-04-11 14:14:13 (#999376), last updated 2009-07-12

818 comments received, 430 comments posted

Basic Info
Name:Fox
Birthdate:1982-07-30
Location:Allentown, Pennsylvania, United States
Bio



And then there was the time she sat with her journal in her lap and her pen held hostage between her teeth, waiting for the words to come. Her cat battled the fierce and frightening lace that dripped and whispered from her skirt, and she listened to the drip and whisper of the rain at the window, ready, eager, desperate. The words had been her very purpose in life not so long ago, her very breath and being, and she would write in the feverish bursts that were expected of a storyteller.

There was one time, even, that she had written herself delirious, staring madly at her computer for hours as her fingers rattled over the keys, the letters, the words, and when she’d lost herself in the haze she unwittingly blinked and pulled back, emerging from her room with flushed cheeks and a soft murmuring of nonsensical melodies, utterly drunk with the nectar of story. One time, not so long ago.

And now she waits, coffee at hand: a terrifying expanse of blank ivory pages in a suede journal, touching pen to paper in a most reverent, hushed, delicate gesture. But at the opportunity to be told, the stories all writhe and foam in a desperate frenzy to find their way out of her world and into ours, and the roaring mass of words fizzle into a dull roar, a steady white noise behind her eyes, a numbing tingle at her fingers…

And so she sits, absentmindedly scratching her cat behind her ears, waiting for the words to come.




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