Roses-And-Hearts

'But why expect such things of a simpleton?' Cattle prod scalpel to softened underbelly. Reactions of sheer accuracy, and maybe it wasn't exactly intentional but god damn she's one hell of a shot. Imprecise vernacular, sorry, maybe I should be more specific. She is that of which you remember, nauseating swirl seeds planted with regrettable error and of all the things that had to grow… 'Don't you see?  We're monsters in the making.'

     one: february 2012 I realise I cannot write anymore. I am way too happy to want to analyse my feelings and distill them into cold words, which will lose their spark and spice far too fast. it turns out that those feelings change quite suddenly, because it turns out you can still write, and you do write the worst "it's not you, it's me" text messages I have ever seen.     two: september 2012 you tell me the main character of the book that I love, that I lent to you back in August, is "too idealised". after years wrestling my romantic side and letting it win out, I won't stand for that. I tell you that he's a character. I tell you that