And I cannot speak, I cannot speak, there are no words to say...

...and...that's really where we stand. I'm not even sure there's a reasonable summation. So...I suppose I won't keep you posted?

Eventually.

Or not.

Precise cuts. Deliberate wounding. Never arm someone with the weapons to use against you, it's a rule. But I've never been able to function that way.



There was contention. I felt there was an argument to come. And I pushed. Knowing the likely outcome, I pushed. And then...

"Goodbye."



I've never had a rational relationship to that word. I can hear it if I know it means for right now. I can hear it if it's just leavetaking, temporary, no sense of permanence.

I cannot deal with it if I think it relates to an ending. Because it becomes permanence in that moment, for me.



I'm too literal. It's been a fault for a while. But I'd also passed out heavy arms, precision rounds, scattered mines to deploy in my wake. I wasn't the one who armed them. That was never my choice.





Over. It's over. It's over. And I hadn't figured out what it was in the first place...

Doing some housekeeping, as long as I'm updating the colors and the theme. Absinthe as a post tag is now gone; it's been replaced by a general Winterfell tag if something in the entry just refers to Winterfell Absinthe, or, in the case of the one post mentioning Mere Henriot's Elixir, a new Kickstarter tag. (For it was originally a Kickstarter project when that tea debuted.)

I also discovered I had some spelling errors! So now contemplation as a tag is all spelled correctly, as well as frustration. (Apparently I had one version with two i's. Why?)

Crafts is now gone; I lumped it under crafting. Clothing and cats are now gone, too; there was only one entry each to them, anyway.

Obviously there's more work to be done, and I'll get to it when I have time, but...it's a start.