Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2001-10-16 04:39 pm
azurelunatic) wrote2001-10-16 04:39 pm
Make Love To War
Well, I delivered the letter to Darkside.
The plan went like this.
First, I wrote the letter. You could feel the energy pouring out of me as I wrote it. Darkside noticed there was something different this morning. I was glowing, practically -- whenever I'm nervous, I tend to light up like the proverbial Yule branch, and things around me pick up sparks.
I told Darkside, when he was twisting my fingers, that perhaps he should not do this, because it was having an effect other than the intended one. "You stop hitting me, I stop doing this to you," he said.
Darkside had a presentation in class today, Database class with the infamous Mr. Wright of the Bostonian accent. He was all dressed up in his suit. (He carries a marble in the pocket for some reason, a white cat's eye marble, maybe so he'll know he hasn't lost all of them yet.)
I sparked all morning. I wrote the letter sitting next to him in the computer lab. For a while, during the most emotionally intensive part of the letter, I couldn't even speak. I walked over to stand with Neighbor and a friend of his who were having an animated conversation about games and gaming and game design, and joined in, using only face and body gestures, because I still could not speak; my voice was overloaded.
Darkside and I sat down in the cafeteria and talked for a while, little stuff. It was nice.
The plan went like this.
First, I wrote the letter. You could feel the energy pouring out of me as I wrote it. Darkside noticed there was something different this morning. I was glowing, practically -- whenever I'm nervous, I tend to light up like the proverbial Yule branch, and things around me pick up sparks.
I told Darkside, when he was twisting my fingers, that perhaps he should not do this, because it was having an effect other than the intended one. "You stop hitting me, I stop doing this to you," he said.
Darkside had a presentation in class today, Database class with the infamous Mr. Wright of the Bostonian accent. He was all dressed up in his suit. (He carries a marble in the pocket for some reason, a white cat's eye marble, maybe so he'll know he hasn't lost all of them yet.)
I sparked all morning. I wrote the letter sitting next to him in the computer lab. For a while, during the most emotionally intensive part of the letter, I couldn't even speak. I walked over to stand with Neighbor and a friend of his who were having an animated conversation about games and gaming and game design, and joined in, using only face and body gestures, because I still could not speak; my voice was overloaded.
Darkside and I sat down in the cafeteria and talked for a while, little stuff. It was nice.