I woke up, refusing to open my eyes, I couldn't remember last night, but then that's nothing new for me.  The smell of my surroundings was unfamiliar, and trust me, it wasn’t an inviting smell.  With a sigh, I slowly opened my eyes -anxious about what I would find- and took stock of my surroundings.  I didn't recognise where I was.  It was like I was kidnapped and taken her - but that feeling in the bottom of my gut told me I had come here of my own accord.  A distant memory was floating around the bac

By beginning this blog, I am not tryng to provoke a reaction, although if you feel you would like to comment thats entirely up to you.  I am not trying to condone what I do, or what I am, because to be honest I dont think there's any excuse.

Some really bad things have been happening.  I mean at first things were good...real good and then, Chy got hurt real bad by Ghavin.  And I didn't even know really what had happened when the next thing I know Chy not living in the house no more.  I figure I could talk to Onyx and try to smooth things over with Chy; but before I could say a word Onyx is all cut up and the new baby too.  Onyx told me to stay away from Chy; but I don't think I can.  Chy is like a sister to me and Onyx like a big sister and even a mom; but I just can't make a choice betwe

[private entry, written in iPhone on bustrip north to visit Lo in Perdition]

[privately posted]

I dreamed that Aisling got proactive this morning and did my laundry and found a business card.  Aaaaand THAT is why I am now sitting at the kitchen table next to half a pot of coffee and half a bottle of expensive Mexican smoke, what with I quit ACTUALLY smoking which I wouldn't be complaining about right now if I hadn't.  Fuck the Irish and fuck creamy.  Bleerrrrrgh.

(("On making a living as an artist was struck out & the post retitled "Magic Penny"))

So much has changed since I arrived in Hathian nearly two months ago.  I feel colder, harder and more ruthless. I stabbed a man and according to some people I drove him to his death.  Nobody believes me when I tell them that Vlad was a vampire; but I have the bite mark to prove it.  He killed himself a couple of weeks ago, throwing himself off of a bridge.  But I don't even believe he's dead.

The worst are full of starving passion: 

hysterical intensity.

I had not expected life would undo so many;

The living outnumber the dead.

Presque vu: 

ash clouds aside, Fimbulwinter this ain't.

As jamais vu Panic

through déjà vu's rough microcosm

feeds the hatchling beast,

a slouching phoenix

spins out 

the wide rainbow.