She knew him at once, though she instantly wished she didn’t. The light was fading but the unmistakeable musk of something ancient dominated. The kronosist barely moved, as if having a body defied his presence. But something about his eyes did not sit well. They shifted - a ticker tape of constant thought streaming and filtering, no place to land, parsing and dismissing, never settling in their awkward sockets for longer than a moment. Behind their shroud, a truth even less easy for her to swallow: the building and dismantling of everything was buried there. She was used to dancing between what was seen and unseen, but he…he had done that dance - and will continue to - for all of time. She felt the dust between the worlds begin to slide and swirl as the painting faded to blue and the ladder of black and white rungs appeared before her.

6random,

early morning storms over sdf (August 2014)

6nature diary,

i’ve still got time to slip you into my my my my…. day…

6mood,

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Lackluster

What did you think? That you could prattle on about your pain/guilt and be absolved? That covering yourself in shit (self-hate) would make you invisible to me?

Did you relish the thought of duping me while your skin got off? Did you really think fucking something up bad enough could erase it from spacetime?

Oh. Right. You can’t remember (own up to or be responsible for anything) because you drink yourself to the point of blackout. On the regular.

How are your dreams these days? Trouble sleeping still? When you don’t participate in reality, the dream world has its own way of excising you.

Your cock was not that great.

[delete]

6mood,

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