I think we write brilliantly when our hearts are full, yet more effectively when they are yearning empty. Best when they have been bruised so well.
Such price.
And thus what aches me are matters of the heart spun in adventures, death and intellectual musings. Feed me with stories of brains, robots, murder mysteries, doctors, men in badass suits, women drowned in perfumes, runaways, stolen kisses and heartbreaks. Just bury me with beautiful, beautiful words.
[Obviously I am currently procrastinating from modeling a bus in the weekend because work/big boss demands so.]
I terribly enjoy the collaborative creation of stories (and life is seemingly relatively more predictable now), hence I am back roleplaying. Perhaps I will get to see some familiar names who have wandered from other realms. But new mysterious partners to be explored are fun too.
Bruise me tender,
Night.
Such price.
And thus what aches me are matters of the heart spun in adventures, death and intellectual musings. Feed me with stories of brains, robots, murder mysteries, doctors, men in badass suits, women drowned in perfumes, runaways, stolen kisses and heartbreaks. Just bury me with beautiful, beautiful words.
[Obviously I am currently procrastinating from modeling a bus in the weekend because work/big boss demands so.]
I terribly enjoy the collaborative creation of stories (and life is seemingly relatively more predictable now), hence I am back roleplaying. Perhaps I will get to see some familiar names who have wandered from other realms. But new mysterious partners to be explored are fun too.
Bruise me tender,
Night.