I feel wonderfully, woefully, all-carved-out. Blame all the usual: The lack of sleep, the demands of booze, the furtive scratchings of every invisible voice who wants an ear and a pen turned their way.

I would Obey you all, altar-wise, I really would.

But you see, I've got Andrea Orsini to read about, and tea to make. There's a place for multitudinous little bells to ring, and beautiful music, and what it feels like to just Relax.

And much as I love you all, you're hardly conducive to that sort of experience.

So good night, my loves. Remember that you're my sweethearts.

<<agé chose>>

0 comments.notation.profile.DW.Quois.Lochinvar.smut.Tambourin.DiaryLand.DeadNazi