Been reading manga like crazy--all love stories like a constant throbbing fever dream. Over the last couple of days, I've read so many I stopped counting long ago--which drives that never ending ache to produce something like it. Writing is a symptomatic disease, I swurr. Recent experience made it that way though. What was once my only sanctuary became a prison. And all them damn boxes that other people like to put you in. "You must do it this way, Raquel...It's got to be that way, Raquel...You should think like this, Raquel."
I won't say that I don't care. That would be a lie. It's like...
...a huge ocean of water pressing against a wooden door. The door is just strong enough to hold the water back but there are cracks in the wood and little rivets of water seeping through those breaches and I've got my back up against the fucking thing, trying to hold it back...And I'm getting splinters so my blood is mixing with the water, and I can't swim so when it breaks, I'm a goner...
Imma drown...
And I am soooo looking forward to that ... release. That very personal, intimate, done-down-dirty-in-the-dark, orgasmic...release. "I-Imm...s-s-soooo c-cl-close!"
____
Once upon a time in a kingdom far away from here and now, a beautiful boy, and he was a boy then, gave a dark forest fairy a somber, but brilliant, melody. And when the fairy listened to the lovely tune, she did not understand the significance of its meaning. Still, she thought that it was beautiful and she kept that gift and left the boy behind to go back into the forest of shadow and golden light where she had been born.
Many years passed and many things happened, but that fairy never forgot that boy--who had become a man in her absence. And sometimes she listened to that song. And slowly, over time, she came to understand it and why he had given it to her.
Something she had considered frivolous had been so beautiful.
And
That
Bitch
Cried...
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