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Yeah, it's still playing, soft and low and achingly sharp in the darkest corners of my mind. The drugs are kicking in - you drown yourself in drink, sweet shadow sister, and I hide behind my opiates, we've both spent a lot of years with substances rather than our own strength keeping the demons away. I suspect we're going to end up talking soon, the few words and half-hints that have been passed between us are leaving me missing our childhood talks and somehow I get the feeling that you too could use someone to talk with, someone you don't have to be strong around, at least for a night. *shrug* If I'm wrong, I'm sure your silence will be answer enough, and sooner or later I'll drift back into silence as well.
I've been diving into the comfort of ink again, rather determinedly cloaking flesh in jeweltones and shades of black, the odd armor that never fails to comfort me. The patterns are growing more arcane, fewer random swirls of color and with symbols taking shape more often than not. I suspect by the time we reach Portland I'll be starting to stay inked all the time, at the very least with the half-glove or bracelet designs or a symbol or two traced onto a cheek. It's one of the things I watch for in myself, this ink obsession; the more I want to draw on my own flesh and the more I want to draw on others, the stronger my need for a safe haven, for control of some sort, is growing. The tone of the inkings says a lot too, this time the wards I draw are almost spiritual in nature, rather than physical, and not as closely tied to sex as they have been at various times in the past. I'll be interested to see what designs I finally settle on tonight.
Kadin, next time you catch me online, send me the mp3 of "How You Remind Me", if you have it - I don't have it any more and I've been missing it.
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