-- It was the last day of Torchwood: Children of Earth. And dear god, that was fairly sad, wasn't it? But it makes me happy that it was sad, because I like unhappy endings better anyway. But seriously. FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF. JACK DON'T EXPECT TO BE INVITED TO ANY FAMILY REUNIONS EVER AGAIN EVER K?
-- And I saw the movie Orphan. It was actually surprisingly good. Also, it's made me all interested in lolita fashion again. Except... I don't honestly know that I would really have the balls (...un, ovaries?) to be a lolita, because I'm so self-conscious. But if I could only get over that... it would be awesome.
Note to self, when you can't draw hands and you can't draw guns? It's best not to try to draw people holding guns. *Facepalm* Oh well, I'm far too lazy to go and redo it.
Also, I realized that I'm way more sensitive about drawing than I am about writing... which is probably why I'm a better writer than artist. I mean, my drawings used to be astronomically better than my writing, but it's weird... I get more critical as I get older, and although being critical has improved my writing a lot, it's just made me afraid to draw at all. I seriously need to get the fuck over that if I ever want to improve my art, because as it is, I can't practice drawing and be okay with getting things wrong. Like, if something doesn't turn out the way I want it, I flip out. Like seriously, I flip the fuck out. -.-
I bought a book of poems by Anna Akhmatova, which makes me very happy because I love reading poetry. If nothing else, it makes me want to write more, which is a good thing.
Okay, okay, anyway. There's this poem by her. And it totally reminds me of Sasuke and Itachi. Doesn't this remind you of them? Although, lol, almost everything I read these days reminds me of Itachi, because I always have to have something to associate everything I read with....
Lying in me, as though it were a white
Stone in the depths of a well, is one
Memory that I cannot, will not, fight:
It is happiness, and it is pain.
Anyone looking straight into my eyes
Could not help seeing it, and could not fail
To become thoughtful, more sad and quiet
Than if he were listening to some tragic tale.
I know the gods changed people into things,
Leaving their consciousness alive and free.
To keep alive the wonder of suffering,
You have been metamorphosed into me.