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If y'all need me, I'll be in my room, in the dark, yearning melodramatically

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fuck.

we'd better run.

we'll do well together, I know it, but for now we'd better run.

YOU BETTER

RUN ALL DAY

AND RUN ALL NIGHT

AND KEEP YOUR DIRTY FEELINGS DEEP INSIDE

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SEND YOU BACK TO MOTHER

IN A CARDBOARD BOX

YOU BETTER

RUN ALL DAY

AND RUN ALL NIGHT

AND KEEP YOUR DIRTY FEELINGS DEEP INSIDE

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UZ IF THEY CATCH YOU IN THE BACKSEAT

TRYING TO PICK HER LOCKS

THEY'RE GONNA

YOU BETTER

RUN ALL DAY

AND RUN ALL NIGHT

AND KEEP YOUR DIRTY FEELINGS DEEP INSIDE

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AND IF YOU TAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND

OUT TONIGHT

YOU BETTER

PARK YOUR CAR WELL

OUT OF SIGHT C

YOU BETTER

RUN ALL DAY

AND RUN ALL NIGHT

AND KEEP YOUR DIRTY FEELINGS DEEP INSIDE

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YOU BETTER

RUN ALL DAY

AND RUN ALL NIGHT

AND KEEP YOUR DIRTY FEELINGS DEEP INSIDE

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none of this is my fault, though.

only stormlines

down the window

what if that’s it?

no you, no me,

just the slight curve of newfallen water down

tired city glass

through centuries

strife

just

the slight curve

newfallen water

tired city glass

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berlin 2014

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Does anyone else love bad weather? Like the kind that’s loud and dark and draws attention to its self like pounding rain drops and thunder and lightning that seems just so close. And you can sit near a window and it’s dark outside and maybe you’ve got a candle lit or a lamp and it’s so warm inside and you’re wearing you’re favourite sweater and watching a good show or reading a good book and it’s beautiful outside the rain and the clouds and the sound of it all and you’re just so content and cosy and happy

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Lisbon, March 2015.

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Bet I'm dreaming now. Or maybe not...is this Shears again? You don't seem like Shears. What do you want from me? Or no, let me put it this way: how can I get you away from me? I've dealt with enough magic over the past few days to last three semesters or more, so I'm not exactly hyped about getting a mystical brain interviewer.

Two truths and a lie? Sounds easy enough. Now that I think of it, though, how would you even know which one is which? Maybe I'll just deal you a hand of lies and let you boil over which one's true. Maybe not. All roads lead to the end, I suppose. Pick one and let me go back to sleep. It's been a long week.

I still haven't found Ilse.

1.) Do you know her, by the way? Ilse Blum. Heir to the Blum family. I don't know what she's going to be inheriting, now that I think about it. Can you still be an heir if they burned your house down? Ilse Blum is...I don't know. She means a lot to me. I mean, a lot. "Get weird looks in the street if you aren't subtle about it." That level of a lot.

And now she's gone, and it's all my fault.

2.) The police stopped me in the street one morning. They were looking for Ilse. They've got these ideas in their heads, sort of nesting and crawling in there. They think that some people aren't people. Ilse is one. I guess if they knew how I felt about her, I'd be one too. They wanted to know where she was. Told me that she didn't have her papers. If I didn't tell them, they'd consider me an accomplice, and she'd be punished harder too.

It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

3.) Conrad--my best friend--and I, we've been traveling to some dark places to find her. There's a place under the city. Over the city? Apart from it, rotting and drifting away. Patchwork concrete and twisted metal beams. Sometimes people and things fall through the cracks. Severed City is the crack. It runs deep. Out there on the edges I saw things.

I feel unclean.

There you go. Two truths and a lie. Looking back at them, it's probably easy to pick out the lie. I try to be an honest person. I'm not good at these things. Then again, the lie is true enough too.

I'm going to sleep now. (There's one more lie for you.)

two truths and a lie (a break from sleep)

A friend of mine challenged me to write two truths and a lie from an OC or a main character of a WIP. I’ve picked the protagonist of my novel, Agnes Grunewald! I don’t expect it to be too difficult, what with her being an unreliable narrator to begin with…right? But then, Agnes is a lot more likely to just not say things or to focus on completely different parts of the scene than outright lie. A liar knows that they’re lying. Our witch girl shut-in, however, has a much more complicated relationship with the truth.

Right now Aggie is still recovering from a rather unpleasant dive into the magical underworld in her home city, so I hope we’re not too much of a bother. I imagine she’s not in a particularly good mood….

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West Berlin 1979. The Reichstag building, and just visible running behind it lower right, the Berlin Wall. 

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