~the well of dreams....
Aug. 11th, 2002 10:01 pmi thought love was like paper airplanes
like a wish made in a park on a sunday, and the breeze takes it away
i thought love made us like children
looking up and smiling
into the distance, where the sun would rise...
i thought wishes could float. and love was a fountain. where hearts were pennies.
& you could cry and fight
& scream and run away
but even as you were running,
the one who loved you would be holding your hand.
and if it's not-- or wasn't-- or couldn't be--
i wouldn't know what to do with myself
i would be useless.
i wouldn't be needed, in that world.
it seems obvious, doesn't it? that neither life nor love nor people,
really, are kind.
and that seems almost like an excuse.
and it is. that's all it is. an excuse.
~~
i don't know when it became "het" love, to me. and when... when i forgot my initial dreams of just there being stories about "you" and "me". and a prince could love the princess, or he could love a prince. like in those late-19th-century art-deco-ish fairytale book illustrations, by arthur rackham and edmund dulac and kay nielsen and so on.
i still identify with the pale maiden, sitting alone under a tree, singing to her lost love. it wasn't really about the ending, it was about the searching. "i would cross rivers and mountains and endless deserts for you"...
every now and then, i just need to replenish that, my source of inspiration, the well of my dreams.
( so here's me free-associating and going nuts with internal dream-world imagery. turned out well, i think. clickety-click if you wanna )
P.S. ~~yummy!draco~~
quire is scaring me. how in the hell do you get this good at 16?? *waaaugh* :> not only does she draw kick-ass nekkid h/d, but she writes reeealy promising fic, where like, everyone gets a witty line or two, which amazes me. and it has plot. and believable!harry and draco. heh. as far as, they don't seem exaggerrated one way or another.
"This is Sirius telling us we need a totalitarian dictatorship again," said Lupin.
hee! ~:)
P.P.S. ( this says i'm a goofy protagonist... or am i?? hmmm..... )
like a wish made in a park on a sunday, and the breeze takes it away
i thought love made us like children
looking up and smiling
into the distance, where the sun would rise...
i thought wishes could float. and love was a fountain. where hearts were pennies.
& you could cry and fight
& scream and run away
but even as you were running,
the one who loved you would be holding your hand.
and if it's not-- or wasn't-- or couldn't be--
i wouldn't know what to do with myself
i would be useless.
i wouldn't be needed, in that world.
it seems obvious, doesn't it? that neither life nor love nor people,
really, are kind.
and that seems almost like an excuse.
and it is. that's all it is. an excuse.
~~
i don't know when it became "het" love, to me. and when... when i forgot my initial dreams of just there being stories about "you" and "me". and a prince could love the princess, or he could love a prince. like in those late-19th-century art-deco-ish fairytale book illustrations, by arthur rackham and edmund dulac and kay nielsen and so on.
i still identify with the pale maiden, sitting alone under a tree, singing to her lost love. it wasn't really about the ending, it was about the searching. "i would cross rivers and mountains and endless deserts for you"...
every now and then, i just need to replenish that, my source of inspiration, the well of my dreams.
( so here's me free-associating and going nuts with internal dream-world imagery. turned out well, i think. clickety-click if you wanna )
P.S. ~~yummy!draco~~
"This is Sirius telling us we need a totalitarian dictatorship again," said Lupin.
hee! ~:)
P.P.S. ( this says i'm a goofy protagonist... or am i?? hmmm..... )