I mean, I know they are, the world is full.
but that doesn't keep my voice from echoing.
I don't have anything new to say. the words are all already free to roam.
so I just try and find my story, hunting paragraphs like wolves, hands slippery, red, gripping a weapon far too insufficient.
the full moon in me does not match the quiet sky outside. starlight cannot touch my skin. the fireflies do not know my name, but the trees do. they dance in the wind, with me.
can't you see?
and if you can, will you send the roar of the waves to me?
Just finished watching the first three seasons of Being Human (UK). It is just as engaging at the US version, the characters just as strong, if not a little stronger, a little more visceral. The end of season three hit me harder than I expected. I knew what was going to happen, but that didn't keep it from both hurting and being celebratory. The show does not shy away from darkness, almost to an uncomfortable degree. Yes, it's the supernatural, but it is still relatable, still hits like a blow to the gut. And now I'm just kind of drifting in the aftereffects, struggling a little bit for footing, fighting my way back out of the show. It'll pass, and it says something of the power of art. Thank you Being Human cast and crew for affecting me.
Song of the Day - "Dead in the Water" by Ellie Goulding.