~~new h/d fic.... angst, shmangst.

i dunno. unlikely to get commentary but i can't help hoping. it's all raw and tender (in my mind), but it's different from the way i've been writing them. i wasn't quite channeling either of them, and thus don't know if i suck or not, but it's what came out of my rantings and bitterness, so um. yah. i hate writing "angst", but sometimes i just can't figure out how to find the way through this thicket of emotion and hopelesness that passes for love (well, sometimes). sometimes there just seems to be pain, and lost chances and recriminations and a certain feeling of fate. i hate fate, really. but strangely, i like destiny.

( so without further ado.... )

~~this hoofing thing has got to stop...

Are you fucked in the head? Take the test.

squeeeeeeeee~! *grins like crazy* ...*struts*
i so love being mostly harmless :)



         I AM A HORSE **ahem.**

[i am an earth horse, which apparently makes me "wise, serene and prudent", not to mention "firmly rooted in your morals, ethics and responsibilities". led more by logic(!) than emotion. awww, yeah. weird. i -am- horsey though, actually. i do "tend not to look much at the big picture; instead they just follow their whims, which can result in a trail of prematurely ended relationships, jobs, projects and so on". well er... not quite. but this is in complete opposition to the earth thing. utterly. but hey. i guess us june '78ths are all a bit psycho. look at phil ;D ha. aww phil, if you ever read this: i didn't mean it that way. i mean. yeah.
   i'm supposed to do well paired with a dog, or a tiger, who are supposed to be charming, courageous and self-possessed. hm. i haven't met anyone like that, actually ;p plus i have this suspicion that they wouldn't even notice me. but still, a far cry from monkeys and rabbits, eh. sigh. yah, i want a tiger. grrrrowl.]

( ok, so here's me rambling about the joys of pinning more stereotypes/archetypes/what-have-you on people i know... is probably boring to most. )

P.S. squeeee~! helmet-head!draco sniping. yummie ;)

( P.P.S. don't read, if you're one of those, `tooooo much info' people ;p i so mean it. )

regular p.p.s:
yah, so. this kinda p's me off. why, you may [or may not] ask? why would poetry annoy and discomfort and otherwise get to you like that? ah well. um. i guess it's the strange, crazed intersection between art and "reality". should it matter? how many beautiful artists and poets were actually being bastards, by writing/painting what they did, in one way or another? how many hidden cruelties lie in beauty? it doesn't matter, i guess. i've been thinking about Voice, and the difference between our day-to-day language and what we end up talking like, in our creations. sometimes, it's quite different, isn't it? sometimes, it's like it's a different person, and you wonder, are they (the writer in question), telling you a Deep Secret (heh. shout-out to diana wynne jones). do you somehow know them intimately? i know with -my- stuff, it's true. if you happen to -understand- what i've said, then yes, you do know me intimately. yes, you see right inside me to the fatty bits and beyond. it's just, weird, that in say, their LJs, many writers sound-- well-- different, don't they. all fangirly and often mundane and often no different from those girls you'd overhear on the bus, you know. of course, you can still tell-- there are still mentions, hints of the greater-than-average intelligence and creativity, no avoiding it. but mostly, it's sublimated into plebeness and banality. even if funny banality, and of course, i giggle with glee at many a plebey rant. so. who am i to talk? i'm just saying. it's different, isn't it. yet we know our secret hearts are communicating still. it's... sweet, kinda :)
    well-- because-- what we say in art/fiction enriches who we are, fills it out, broadens and deepens it. it's never painful or disorienting, only joyful. except you know, when you -know-. that the author -lies- about who they are anywhere other than within their art. then it's a kind of travesty, almost. there is a sort of... need, to be honest outside the confines of your art, for the artist, i think. it's a sort of betrayal if you aren't, isn't it? i don't know. i'd like to think so.

oh yeah, and...
someone [tzi] understands, UNDERSTANDS, ya hear, about the utter and horrid wrongness and impossibleness of draco-or-snape/hermione...! yesssssss~!! i am VINDICATED, dammit, vindicated.....*mad laughter ensues, as well as extreme dancing* muwahahahaahahahahahaha!