A f T E R T h E A E T h E R N E T ][ radiolullaby.smol.pub .............................................................................
I believe I have some kind of tradition of naming my first journal entry in German. So, let's not break with tradition, shall we?
☆＊━━━━━━ † ━━━━━━＊☆
I don't have a plan for this yet. Possibly, just fragments. Probably illegible. A barely audible wish: to breathe again.
I've held onto this one last grain of sand from Fantasia for so long now, that sometimes I've nearly forgotten it's here in my hand.
But then I see the half moons etched into the lines on my palms like bird-steps imprinted into dried concrete, and I remember.
I keep waiting. I'm not sure what for.
Who for.
Why for.
I haven't let the light go out, somehow.
☆＊━━━━━━ † ━━━━━━＊☆
Everyone dies young. Some of us keep walking around.
Some of us get sent back, like Olórin.
☆＊━━━━━━ † ━━━━━━＊☆
The shoreline isn't empty. There are shadow whispers, and shadow shapes, blurred beneath the moon and waves.
Perhaps this is my way of saving myself, again.
>>>EOF
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