jheti | Take (Reuptake)

There began an era of unpredictable weather

I literally just paid the cable bill in order that I could get to the Internet in general, and Livejournal in particular...

Only to discover that I have nothing impressive to say.

My next epic that will die half-finished will be called Samsara and is a Lust/Scar/Greed heavy-duty AU pretending it is genfic. I know the end already, because I dreamed it in its basic entirety months ago.

I dream about being gunned down with relative frequency. That's neither here nor there.

Baraka's moping about--he's not there, none of them are, they haven't been for over a year now--but I get a sense that moping is what he is doing, in that storyline where they can't seem to let themselves have fun.

I can use her cadences again, but she won't talk to me; I can talk like her, but she isn't talking to me. It's a very weird step sideways.

You know, don't you, that I was trying to write the scene that I can clearly see in my head, the one that slams all my buttons ever except one, because that's Ed's, and it's not even the one you think, you'll never guess...but no, no, these are Greed's and the universe, my obviousness, it turns on the pins and burns through me.

I will give you
My red color
To take away your sickly pallor

Envy hooked him in the same fashion as he did Wrath. It's that simple. Only nothing is ever that simple. I can clearly see Envy's elbow disappearing between Greed's teeth in his sudden hunt for more. Nothing has ever been like this, nothing has ever glowed in such fashion, singing to him, screaming his name as it goes down.

It's like being alive again. Until it goes away.

Envy, of course, beats the hell out of him. It would not be my scenario if that did not follow. Toying with the idea of Greed/fireplace poker TO THE FACE. 'Cause the little palmtree always goes for their faces, their likenesses, and he can't stand Greed's, smug and perpetually older and rougher than his.

It's too much like...

He shouldn't look like the older brother. That isn't FAIR.

It all makes perfect sense, but I can't write it up. Not quite.

Instead it somehow rubbed up against things that rub up against me, but that don't matter to me quite the way they should. It looks/seems/appears that they do or would, and that's sufficient, usually, for the purposes of fanfiction. But it's too identical to the one I just wrote.

More circling behavior.

I'm having these cool intrusive images of slit/split/torn open gorey wrists. Not hurting my sleep, curiously enough. Not attached to anything except the chemical panic twitch.

Shit, I get the chemical panic twitch from going to the supermarket. It doesn't mean anything.

That was the real cause
Discovered by some explorer, years later
Looking back at the past

1816 WAS THE YEAR WITHOUT A SUMMER

I love this song. I'm not sure why.