awake

part the first:

while watching this week's episode of Supernatural with my mother.

mum: who's Michael?
me: *wtf* you know, Michael? the archangel? Lucifer wants to use Sam as a vessel, Michael wants to use Dean, big fight for the end of the world thing?
mum: I thought Castiel wanted to use Dean as his vessel.
me: *hits floor*

i sort of couldn't breathe for like 30 seconds or so.

and two:

i kind of had a lot of money saved for a life changing move this year; but plans change, i guess, and instead it's been used to pay off some debt and land me a 40" plasma and ps3 (well, not JUST yet, but i'm strongly considering it). so. now i've got to try to sell my old tv, which is lovely and awesome but a CRT that weighs 350 pounds.

the problem isn't getting it sold, the problem is ass-coverage, seeing as in this country/economy/whatever, people like to sue other people for their own fuck ups. ie: if someone hurts themselves getting that thing out of my place, i want to be liability free. going to have to look into that i suppose.

#3 (and the best one)

zomg cenori is coming to visit in a few days for like, two and a half weeks!! i cannot suppress the squee. it's been two and a half years since our last visit, and that's just wrong. so much cleaning to do!

and a side note, i'm going to kick Rav's arse for getting me into True Blood, despite the fact that Anna Paquin annoys the crap out of me.

icon due to random mention of Groundhog Day this morning.

from a long time ago, found in meanderings of old writings:

the land shuddered as if drawing a swift but ragged breath. we stood and watched, and in the moment of complete silence that followed it seemed as if that was it. but suddenly the ground shook more deeply, and in the distance across the flatlands of our home landscape came a violent pulse of earth. with every growling stroke the earth up heaved, the shadows of rock crawling with great, uneven steps into the dim purple light of the sky. first the plains turned rolling landscape, then sweeping hills, and then the earth found places to crash together and stretch higher, the tips of mountains now disappearing into the blackness of the falling night.

when at last it stopped, and the night birds started singing again over the last fading tremors, the great white wolf looked from the distant, new cliffs and then to me, with tongue lolling. 'not yet,' he said, and then turned and trotted lightly off to join the others. i watched him go before looking back to the mountains. in the farscape i saw a flash of white that wasn't him, but within moments it vanished into the veins of high rock.

the ink of night trickled finally down to consume the entire sky before i turned away and went back to the trees, and the song, and the hunt.

//
i've lost my box of photos, and my album. which means i've lost my only photograph of Arrow.

i remember when i wrote this. remember what i was thinking, at the time. almost five years ago, now. stories for other times, i guess.

why are the best years of your life sometimes so horrible?