New Writing Journal is Here
Apr. 27th, 2004 02:57 amOK, folks--first of all, thank you for all who voted on names and stuff.
I was this close to name it goodnight_antarctica, because I just love that name and, apprently, so do most of you...but the damn name was just too long. *Le sigh*
So, instead, I went with
suture_collage. (Thanks
siliconedreamer...your comments prettymuch said it all.)
Probably a fairly accurate title, too, since my fiction and observations thereof generally tend to be...well, a great deal like a mosaic made of scars: thin scars, thick scars, many of them still bleeding if overstressed and quite a few so livid they're literally painful to look at. I use fiction as a means of letting out some of the anguish, disappointment, oftimes-crushing sadness, and simple hatred that breeds inside my overwrought brain...so I can promise you all a fairly depressing ride.
First of all: I'm going to make this thing friends-only...with one exception--there is one person whom I really don't speak to anymore, sadly enough, whom I still will allow access to this since, well...she'll know when she sees it. Otherwise, if you're already on my current journal friends list, I'll be putting you on the
suture_collage list as well. That way you can become my sort-of beta-testers for stuff to publish.
I won't be posting that much for the next few days, though--at least not until after the first week in May, at any rate, simply because I'm so damned busy right now. But, in future times, here's what you'll get to enjoy:
So sign up and pop some SSRIs and maybe a handful of Klonopin, as well. And get out the Bactine and the quilting needles and the heavy waxed thread....And maybe some leeches to perhaps control lividity in the extremities, if blood-pooling results.
I was this close to name it goodnight_antarctica, because I just love that name and, apprently, so do most of you...but the damn name was just too long. *Le sigh*
So, instead, I went with
Probably a fairly accurate title, too, since my fiction and observations thereof generally tend to be...well, a great deal like a mosaic made of scars: thin scars, thick scars, many of them still bleeding if overstressed and quite a few so livid they're literally painful to look at. I use fiction as a means of letting out some of the anguish, disappointment, oftimes-crushing sadness, and simple hatred that breeds inside my overwrought brain...so I can promise you all a fairly depressing ride.
First of all: I'm going to make this thing friends-only...with one exception--there is one person whom I really don't speak to anymore, sadly enough, whom I still will allow access to this since, well...she'll know when she sees it. Otherwise, if you're already on my current journal friends list, I'll be putting you on the
I won't be posting that much for the next few days, though--at least not until after the first week in May, at any rate, simply because I'm so damned busy right now. But, in future times, here's what you'll get to enjoy:
- Several poems written for someone I now can scarcely think about--but I like them just too much to throw them away.
- Versions of the stories "A Place to Sleep," "The Bad Jennifer," and a whole new work entitled "Coin-Operated Boy."
- A few excerpts from a piece-in-progress entitled "The Jawbone of Sleep," a tale told entirely from the point of view of someone suffering from frequent oneirophrenic episodes.
- And finally, daily snippets detailing the utter wastefulness of life and love.
So sign up and pop some SSRIs and maybe a handful of Klonopin, as well. And get out the Bactine and the quilting needles and the heavy waxed thread....And maybe some leeches to perhaps control lividity in the extremities, if blood-pooling results.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-27 01:09 pm (UTC)Do you really want me to read it?
no subject
Date: 2004-04-27 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-27 10:59 pm (UTC)Also... I got a letter from you today and I haven't read it yet. Do you still want me to?