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alectoperditaDon't think about white bears. Think of anything but white bears. Moving upward levels of cognitive effort. Must check those thoughts- all thoughts. So there are no white bears- no snow-colored furred mammals crawling across the length of the parietal lobe to settle in the curves of the pre-frontal cortex. Its hand grazed the sensory cortex, head feels numbed.
An ironic effect.
Ironic Processing.
Don't think about death. Shove the words execution, decapitation, and asphyxia to the back of the mind. Tuck the notion of suicide under your occipital lobe, somewhere between the V1 and the cerebellum. The scissor from the desk cuts both lives and fortunes. The Fates and She who ties the Red String of Destiny between Lovers- Blessed and Doomed, but never the Never Meant To Be.
Word association.
Schemes and Schemas.
Don't think about the grooves pinching the edge of lips- full, pale, downward-turned lips. The two black holes cushioned between the upper and lower. The absence of cellular and epithelial tissue between the cheek and the mouth- widens into a singular orifice that only consumes. Cold and dead and dark- like the eyes. Sins of omission afloat in space and its emptiness devours all like the frosted beast at mind.
Word. Salad s.
An ironic effect.
Ironic Processing.
Don't think about death. Shove the words execution, decapitation, and asphyxia to the back of the mind. Tuck the notion of suicide under your occipital lobe, somewhere between the V1 and the cerebellum. The scissor from the desk cuts both lives and fortunes. The Fates and She who ties the Red String of Destiny between Lovers- Blessed and Doomed, but never the Never Meant To Be.
Word association.
Schemes and Schemas.
Don't think about the grooves pinching the edge of lips- full, pale, downward-turned lips. The two black holes cushioned between the upper and lower. The absence of cellular and epithelial tissue between the cheek and the mouth- widens into a singular orifice that only consumes. Cold and dead and dark- like the eyes. Sins of omission afloat in space and its emptiness devours all like the frosted beast at mind.
Word. Salad s.
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no subject
on 2006-02-01 04:30 pm (UTC)I really hope you are not mad at me for not commenting on this treat, but asking you a favor. I have seen that you de-friended my journal. Probably because I am a Potter freak and you are not longer interested in writing fanfiction. May I ask you a favor nevertheless? Since I can no longer read your HP/SS drabbles here in this journal, cause they are f-locked, can you point me to another location where I can find your writings? Or maybe send them to me by e-mail? I would be ever so grateful :)
Hugs.
Claudia
no subject
on 2006-02-02 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-02-02 07:04 pm (UTC)Every time I try to open one, I get some message like: You are not allowed to read this entry. :( *sniff* So sad, since I love your fics.
no subject
on 2006-02-02 07:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-02-02 07:17 pm (UTC)