it's 1:29 pm, on June 25, 2002 - blinking.

~

I'm writing this fic where Kevin Richardson kidnaps Justin for his songwriting abilities. This is stupid and shallow, and therefore, I have a great deal of the stupid and the shallow within me. I'm okay with that, but I have to admit it.

*

Really, though, I want to update to remind myself that some things I really don't have a handle on. No, that's not really.

--okay, and telling claire about Justin, I came up with "gentle. and he was really skinny too, under all that hair." Which is Justin, for sure.--

There's this M*A*S*H episode too, that I'd seen for the first time like, two weeks ago, where Winchester says "I've never told you anything." And someone reminded me of it just today, along with all this Justin. And when I saw it the first time, I thought 'oh, now I see Charles/Hawkeye'. And now that I see it, I think 'oh, now I see Justin saying "I never told you anything".

So there's that. And it's like what Bobby used to stand for -- what bobby still stands for -- because it's fundamental and it's important but I have to approach it from the side, never from the front, because otherwise it's too much, it's too big. But yeah.

so there's that. and, because we all love the werewolf Remus, there's also this:

blinking
by Suzene Campos

in Paris
there was a Revolution
and a machine
the guillotine

and there was a man
a doctor
a scientist
to be executed

he asked
his friend
his good dear friend
i imagine
to stand over
the basket

he said that he
would like to know
if the blade was so keen
if the death was so clean
that he might not know
if he might not realize
he was dead
he said that he would
blink
in the basket
as many times as he could
before
his mind shut down

he
blinked
thirteen times
or more
before his
brain starved for oxygen
and his eyes darkened
and died
with the rest
of him

there was a boy
a man
that i loved
reckless, wild
feckless, wonderful
my mate
Sirius
spice and lightening
confined to flesh

there were deaths
three deaths
three deaths that meant
something to me
twelve that i was numb to
and one in my heart
that would not follow,
no matter my wish,
to the flesh of a man
confined to a cell

and me

he left me alone

i've been blinking for
twelve years
without my heart
not truly alive
but waiting
waiting for my oxygen
to run out

*

There was something else. oh. I tell you a lot. you know lots of shit. Also, maybe kids forget. maybe they have to or something. and even though it probably wouldn't help, I wish I could.

~

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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015

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