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by light of day...
Sep. 7th, 2008 09:14 amRegulus.
Damn. Not dead, but hiding.
Rereading his words ... his thoughts, makes a few things clearer than they have ever been.
But ... really, it's like the lyrics from a bad Weird Sisters tune, in't it? 'Slithering lines of ink' and 'is there nothing that isn't to do with you' -- by God, it's the same damn angst-ridden, self-flogging, over-emotional claptrap it always was.
Regulus, if you're reading this, stop being such a pisser and stand up for yourself, mate. If you left once, you know you'll never get what you want from them. Don't let them pull you back into that pit.
...Talk to me? Little brother?
Oh, sod it all! He's making me sound like him, all brooding and depressive and bloody premenstrual. Swear it's like Andy was her whole seventh year. At least she finally was a man about it and did what she damn well wanted to do in the first place, and fuck Uncle Cygnus.
Right, then. There's only one solution: Fresh crepes.
Damn. Not dead, but hiding.
Rereading his words ... his thoughts, makes a few things clearer than they have ever been.
But ... really, it's like the lyrics from a bad Weird Sisters tune, in't it? 'Slithering lines of ink' and 'is there nothing that isn't to do with you' -- by God, it's the same damn angst-ridden, self-flogging, over-emotional claptrap it always was.
Regulus, if you're reading this, stop being such a pisser and stand up for yourself, mate. If you left once, you know you'll never get what you want from them. Don't let them pull you back into that pit.
...Talk to me? Little brother?
Oh, sod it all! He's making me sound like him, all brooding and depressive and bloody premenstrual. Swear it's like Andy was her whole seventh year. At least she finally was a man about it and did what she damn well wanted to do in the first place, and fuck Uncle Cygnus.
Right, then. There's only one solution: Fresh crepes.
