I never say terrific anymore

And I doubt that I ever did. It’s one of those painfully abandoned delightful words that always ssucced in escaping my output.

I was cruising Wikipedia on Franzen’s “Freedom”‘. It had a quotation from Obama, who though the novel was “terrific” after reading it during the summer. Now, I don’t pretend to have many things in common with Mr. President (for one thing, he governs a whole nation, whereas I don’t have any measurable significance or influence over the world) but it’s interesting to me that our vocab doesn’t overlap. Of course, it’s all to do with our separate and vastly different upbringing, our differing taste in literature and such and etc – but HOW COME I SAY “WONDERFUL”?

It rolls off my tongue so easily and yet i don’t harbour much affection for the word. It seems so washed out. So “nice”. So “fine”.

Things like this make me hyperaware of my usage of vocab. Why do i say what I say? Will I begin muttering “elementary” now that I’m firmly in the lap of the Sherlock canon?

my gladness is real

three dogs and a cat fight

a low

slow the hour after all

howling echoes through the darkness

that is the devil’s parade

a wild streak

a burning constitution

renders the blind

don’t ask to speak. now

the making of silence in sleep

i am sloppy now. Letting them in.

The wind weaving in between.

Untangling the themes.

Tracing what was true but now seem

like the wonders of a dream

Spring became the palm

i shook with clammy hands

a gladness not to be relied upon.

a silver beauty that goes grey and far

only returning to burn the heart of out the dark.

it happens

she forgot to rewind the tape.

and again I weep with lady who. Lost the meatball and gained no means.

Where is father? And his camera?

Won’t there be a memory of this misery?

there’s clapping during rehearsal

even some tears

some real people

Please welcome the real downer of the evening

wait for the firetruck

that’s the highlight.

of) a good night, I hope

the good one

Sally wants to know why no one likes a salad.

There are 5 kinds of electrified spuds.

did you explain to her there’s no one in charge?

i found a bible in the fiction section and lost my laugh.

my god. The things she knows.

(All of the above is my original work. Please alert me, credit and link back if you wish to post any of it elsewhere. Many thanks~)

booked

it happens

she forgot to rewind the tape.

and again I weep with lady who. Lost the meatball and gained no means.
Where is father? And his camera?

Won’t there be a memory of this miserable shit?

there’s clapping during rehearsal

even some tears

some real people
Please welcome the real downer of the evening

wait for the firetruck

that’s the highlight.
of) a good night, I hope

self-proclaimed blehh

I just noticed a ton of sp/gr errors in my old posts. I was going to go through them and correct the mistakes. BUT i decided not to. I like those mistakes. Somehow they are endearing, and to me, at least, they prove that I wrote those words genuinely.

Besides, who cares?

restrained

I blame my tendency to be overly invested (read: obsessed) on my curiosity. Once I beceome attached to something, I absolutely have to know everything there is to know about it. I work efficiently too, under the overarching umbrella of “Acclaimed BBC Dramas” I have Sherlock, Jane Eyre, and Downton Abbey.

The first is far more enthralling than the others (part of the magic is because of how naturally Holmes is updated). I remember halfway through watching A Study In Pink and exclaiming “this is bloody brilliant!” Honestly, this is before I became a Cumberbatch devotee!

I read frantically, training my eyes on all of the original ACD canon and before the week is out, I can talk pretty knowledgably about Holmes.

Sigh…

hearing sighs

Sounds are important to me.

I would have my eyes

but ears treat me more