Melancholy endings…

Well, my week of vacation is over and I don’t feel like I did anything but discover that I’m dismally bored without my job to annoy me. Friends are leaving for school. Went out with the girls for goodbye drinks–my first time at a bar. (I’ve been busy, okay?) I ordered an amaretto sour, basically the only drink I know I won’t choke on, and when I commented sheepishly on the sissiness of my selection, the bartender obligingly offered, “Yeah, my grandma drinks those.” …One of those moments I wish I had the Aeon-Flux-like ability to kill someone with one of those skinny red straws.

Good time to try out some serious writing I did ages ago:

I am the cold in these mountains. I am why this place is uninhabitable. I howl through the valleys and brood over the peaks, shaking the snow from the air and bristling with bitter ice. All who hear my ancient voice despair. I steal the steamy breath from their throats and close their eyes for the last time, taking my revenge on the innocent, on those who never knew me, never trembled under the piercing gaze of my chill blue eyes, when I had eyes. Now my eyes are long gone from this earth. Every last part of me is gone, except my limitless cold rage that has made itself a frozen wasteland. My kingdom.

Is it just me, or did that totally suck ass? Lemme try this one: it’s like a creepy oracle’s warning in the same story:

Cold inside, where cold sets in,
And cuts the bone, and sears the skin,
And frosts the lashes weighed with sleep,
And steals the last of voice’s peep,
Entombed within the endless deep,
Where dreams are made and ways are steep,
Down, down,
Ever and all to keep.

Not as bad, I guess. Except “peep” is a total suck-ass word, there. Gotta fix that.

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