Tonight is SinCity. I’m hoping people will be there, but I’m hoping more that the laundry load with my underwear gets some time to dry before I head out the door. I am going to attempt to wear my little silk nightgown with my fishnets tonight. Not only is the hem above my knees, this is in fact the shortest thing I think I may have ever worn. When I say ever, I include being home alone and wandering around in tiny towels. Let’s put it this way: My coat is a full foot longer than this blue silk. I’m a wee bit scared. I remind myself that bravery is synonymous with stupidity and I tell myself to change. If laundry is done in time, I just may. If not, I will force myself into anime pigtails just to top the fear as much as possible and ride it out. Think of it like any other costume, (in spite of it showing above my knees), and leave attempting to feel brash. Really, it’s masochistic, but I’m trying to deal with some fairly strong ingrained prudishness.
Jump in – it’s only fire.
On some level I feel I deserve this. I scare people all the time, it’s damn well my turn. I look someone in the eyes and I hit them with thier own desires. No-one should ever be able to accuse me of playing with such things. I should carry them and hard. This is my come-uppance. My fronting for the words. I can be just as strong as I feel. Clench my teeth. Bite, hit, and punish this fear.
If I remember, I will have more certainty than you do. I will stare those demons down.
Our house is a house of language, ideas. This text and that music. My house is a place of no worship, but my gods will win. I have remembered how to smile. This child has not grown up, but this child, this child, oh! Let her grow claws. Let her take fangs and create a devil in red. whenever i’m alone with you, you make me feel like i am whole again I am wanting friends to be there tonight. Not people, not even simply friends. I want the older ones there. Experienced in ways that can see maybe who I’ll be someday. The ones that know me just well enough to have had to have me walk on glass next to them. The people that will note and repect that I don’t want thier helping hands, but appreciate them through hissing breaths. i’ll always love you It would be sweet to be able to dance through this. By the end of the evening, I want to be able to walk my way deathly through Upper Crackton without a glimmer of nervousness. I will be more aware of them than they are of me. I want by the end of this night to know I can do this and do it well.
Once when I was seven I went to a fosterhome.
I could trust you if I want to.