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May. 19th, 2003 12:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolHate bloody Stargate fandom at the moment, for reasons I'd really not rather go into in public at the request of the person left to clean it all up.
I don't want to leave the SG fandom, and I won't, because I love the show, and most of the fandom. But there's some right bitches out there, who are putting me right off.
I won't leave. But dammit, I might start lurking permanently...
In other news, I have an exam tomorrow, in music. Made lotsa notes, but at the same time, am unporepared. Hmmm. Taking music was definately a mistake, but what else could I have taken? The other two subjcts I was interested in, Drama and Classics, both aren't offered at my school.
Bah.
In other news, I did some writing last night. It's a bit... weird. Original fiction. It has a fairly large hint of Lady Macbeth about it, and it's... dark. Do not read is easily upset. Or suicidal. Etc.
It's the thoughts of someone whos' been pushed over the edge. Thats pretty much the only way I can describe. Read. And don't send the scary men in the white coats around, please.
Sick.
She feels sick, disoriented. Her stomach churns, as she stares around at the surroundings.
Lost.
She is lost- alone. For who would wish to be near her now? “Not all who wander are lost.” She remembers that. It is not true. Not for her.
Alone.
She is alone. So alone. One like her is always alone. Always will be alone.
Ashamed.
She is ashamed. Dirty. She knows it. The world knows it. It reviles her. It can sense it, cowers from her uncleanliness.
Sorrow.
She is sorry. She did not mean to do it. But she did. And now she is dirty, and it will not wash away. She has tried, but it made her dirtier.
Blood.
The blood flows freely. She remembers that. She cannot forget. The blood spilled everywhere. His blood. Her blood. The two had mingled, into one red river, making her unclean. Making the world hate her.
Tears.
They run down her cheeks. They ran into his blood. She didn’t mean to do it. And when she tried to be clean again, the tears ran into her blood too.
Exhaustion.
She is tired. The run had hurt her, sucking the last energy from her, ebbing away like the blood. She had run from the world. After it had happened, she knew it no longer wanted it, would hate her. Fear her. Hurt her. So she had run.
Shining.
The only bright thing left. The shining, deadly steel. She does not know why it is in her hand still. It is what made her do it. It is what made her unclean. It is what made the blood flow. It is what made her do it. But it is what can make it- everything- stop.
Pain.
It hurts her, as she presses the chill blade against her skin. The blood flows again. So do the tears. She does not care. Not any more. She presses harder.
Darkness.
The darkness is welcome. She embraces it, like the friend it is. She can no longer see the blood, not in the darkness. She drops the sparkling metal. She cannot see its brightness any longer. Not in the dark. Her eyes slide shut.
Peace.
Um. Please say what you thought. I'd really appreciate it.
Off to read To Kill A Mockingbird YET AGAIN...
Namarie! ~Hathy_Col~
I don't want to leave the SG fandom, and I won't, because I love the show, and most of the fandom. But there's some right bitches out there, who are putting me right off.
I won't leave. But dammit, I might start lurking permanently...
In other news, I have an exam tomorrow, in music. Made lotsa notes, but at the same time, am unporepared. Hmmm. Taking music was definately a mistake, but what else could I have taken? The other two subjcts I was interested in, Drama and Classics, both aren't offered at my school.
Bah.
In other news, I did some writing last night. It's a bit... weird. Original fiction. It has a fairly large hint of Lady Macbeth about it, and it's... dark. Do not read is easily upset. Or suicidal. Etc.
It's the thoughts of someone whos' been pushed over the edge. Thats pretty much the only way I can describe. Read. And don't send the scary men in the white coats around, please.
Sick.
She feels sick, disoriented. Her stomach churns, as she stares around at the surroundings.
Lost.
She is lost- alone. For who would wish to be near her now? “Not all who wander are lost.” She remembers that. It is not true. Not for her.
Alone.
She is alone. So alone. One like her is always alone. Always will be alone.
Ashamed.
She is ashamed. Dirty. She knows it. The world knows it. It reviles her. It can sense it, cowers from her uncleanliness.
Sorrow.
She is sorry. She did not mean to do it. But she did. And now she is dirty, and it will not wash away. She has tried, but it made her dirtier.
Blood.
The blood flows freely. She remembers that. She cannot forget. The blood spilled everywhere. His blood. Her blood. The two had mingled, into one red river, making her unclean. Making the world hate her.
Tears.
They run down her cheeks. They ran into his blood. She didn’t mean to do it. And when she tried to be clean again, the tears ran into her blood too.
Exhaustion.
She is tired. The run had hurt her, sucking the last energy from her, ebbing away like the blood. She had run from the world. After it had happened, she knew it no longer wanted it, would hate her. Fear her. Hurt her. So she had run.
Shining.
The only bright thing left. The shining, deadly steel. She does not know why it is in her hand still. It is what made her do it. It is what made her unclean. It is what made the blood flow. It is what made her do it. But it is what can make it- everything- stop.
Pain.
It hurts her, as she presses the chill blade against her skin. The blood flows again. So do the tears. She does not care. Not any more. She presses harder.
Darkness.
The darkness is welcome. She embraces it, like the friend it is. She can no longer see the blood, not in the darkness. She drops the sparkling metal. She cannot see its brightness any longer. Not in the dark. Her eyes slide shut.
Peace.
Um. Please say what you thought. I'd really appreciate it.
Off to read To Kill A Mockingbird YET AGAIN...
Namarie! ~Hathy_Col~
no subject
Re:
Date: 2003-05-19 05:58 am (UTC)I love you. I really do. I was really insecure about this, but now... I'm fairly happy. Thankies!
Re:
Date: 2003-05-19 06:01 am (UTC)It was a brilliant break from Lord of the freakin Flies anyway, English Lit on Wednesday, woohoo.
Re:
Date: 2003-05-19 06:06 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-05-19 06:10 am (UTC)