I only have to close my eyes dear and suddenly I'm where you are
Dorian's is getting interesting. Popular nights mean more tipping mean better chance to repay my debts and pay rent. And, err, go shopping.
But they also mean crashing, flipping into limbo, more experience in the grey spaces I loathe so very well. Bah.
But I'm having a great deal of fun between episodes of crashy crashy.
Last night, for instance, I crashed three times, but I danced in a highly scandalous selection of black buckled leather straps, and felt only slightly conspicuous sliding up and down the center dance-stage pole.
While I did this, I spoke with the darkened moon, and the statue come to life, and the haloed anything-but-angel. Everything and nothing, gentle flirtation and answering questions, making jests and laughing together. Across the miles. Eased my heart, a tad, knowing I'm still close to the satellite.
I'm getting closer to the statue, too. Each caress, each kiss, each longing look, brings me closer, binding me to his side. The resolution, of all my fruitless searches...he may well be it. Is it a terribly selfish thing that now, I feel as if my life makes sense? Trailing from me on strengthening silver cords, the statue, the satellite, the neko lad...repletion, contentment, peace.
I do not know these terms well, I do not understand how they apply to the train wreck. But flowers are growing through the jagged edges, the shrieking of tortured metal has stopped, the flames have entirely disappeared. The structure is cold to the touch. These are only good things, I believe. I must believe. I need to do my best not to fear.
In the meantime, I have a new love, and I have established loves; I have friends who support me still; I have work I like doing and new friends I'm having great fun learning.
I learn daily about building, tricks of structure, tricks of perspective. I play with textures and poses, I make furniture, I make dresses. I've finally listed two very simple outfits on Second Life Boutique, and it will spur me on to be better, make more, figure this out.
Slowly, slowly, the life rebuilds. Coheses. Makes more sense. Calms down. Fear can't stop me unless I let it, I can be good in my life. I don't have to have things on fire and drama and horrific consequence, just because I'm me.
And the statue's remaking my temporal Key. Once he's sure it's done, and gives it to me...then I can talk to those I spoke with before, and see if it can be enchanted again to function properly. Who knows what will go wrong that time...but that's for when it happens, I need not worry over it now.
I don't think I need to worry about much, actually. Just...drift, and heal, and understand, and learn, and ask questions, and dance, and accept care, and spend time, and communicate.
I can do this. I can be this. I can.
But they also mean crashing, flipping into limbo, more experience in the grey spaces I loathe so very well. Bah.
But I'm having a great deal of fun between episodes of crashy crashy.
Last night, for instance, I crashed three times, but I danced in a highly scandalous selection of black buckled leather straps, and felt only slightly conspicuous sliding up and down the center dance-stage pole.
While I did this, I spoke with the darkened moon, and the statue come to life, and the haloed anything-but-angel. Everything and nothing, gentle flirtation and answering questions, making jests and laughing together. Across the miles. Eased my heart, a tad, knowing I'm still close to the satellite.
I'm getting closer to the statue, too. Each caress, each kiss, each longing look, brings me closer, binding me to his side. The resolution, of all my fruitless searches...he may well be it. Is it a terribly selfish thing that now, I feel as if my life makes sense? Trailing from me on strengthening silver cords, the statue, the satellite, the neko lad...repletion, contentment, peace.
I do not know these terms well, I do not understand how they apply to the train wreck. But flowers are growing through the jagged edges, the shrieking of tortured metal has stopped, the flames have entirely disappeared. The structure is cold to the touch. These are only good things, I believe. I must believe. I need to do my best not to fear.
In the meantime, I have a new love, and I have established loves; I have friends who support me still; I have work I like doing and new friends I'm having great fun learning.
I learn daily about building, tricks of structure, tricks of perspective. I play with textures and poses, I make furniture, I make dresses. I've finally listed two very simple outfits on Second Life Boutique, and it will spur me on to be better, make more, figure this out.
Slowly, slowly, the life rebuilds. Coheses. Makes more sense. Calms down. Fear can't stop me unless I let it, I can be good in my life. I don't have to have things on fire and drama and horrific consequence, just because I'm me.
And the statue's remaking my temporal Key. Once he's sure it's done, and gives it to me...then I can talk to those I spoke with before, and see if it can be enchanted again to function properly. Who knows what will go wrong that time...but that's for when it happens, I need not worry over it now.
I don't think I need to worry about much, actually. Just...drift, and heal, and understand, and learn, and ask questions, and dance, and accept care, and spend time, and communicate.
I can do this. I can be this. I can.
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