Dec 9. Which means this is day 30 of 30 Days of William Control. Yesterday, while sitting in the bleachers watching derby (Kill Jills VS Gas City, my Jills did not fare so well. Injuries and toss-abouts galore), I started thinking about getting a “this is where pessimism comes to die” tattoo. Which is how you -know- there’s been nothing going into my ears this month but our Darling Wil*.
This is where we feel love, find life, kill time.
This is where our pessimism comes to die.
Here you can trade your flesh for currency.
Which is fairly darklovey and romantic, until the flesh as currency part, but I suppose that’s subjective, too.
There is also this:
He reminds me of ELLIS UNDERGROUND, and of other, royal things and Umbrellas, and makes me want to start needlefelting again. Perhaps not just him, but there’s been a niggle, lately, of wanting to start sculpting, and there’s a list as long as my foot (I have a very long foot) of things that I want to make/build. I think this? Is a Very. Good. Sign.
*unless I’m writing, because we know I only write to Johnny Hollow.