Well something's gotta be the first post
Feb. 12th, 2024 08:01 pmHello, fellow traveler!
It's been a long time since I've played with this alter ego. I wrote fanfic back in the early 2000’s, mostly in Harry Potter (Snarry is my OTP), with some Buffy, X Files, X-Men (those x’s!), and I think a few stories about Picard and Q thrown in. A lot of my work was lost, because internet and time, but someone archived a couple of the HP stories here:
https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisveryinstant/
I’m here to reconnect with fandom while I convalesce, hopefully reach out to some old friends, make some new ones, indulge my burning obsessions, and maybe recreate something of the old Livejournal days (but probably not).
I’ll leave you with a scrap of a poem—from Andrea Gibson’s Pole Dancer:
Lover, did you see the sunset tonight?
Did you see Neruda lay down on the horizon?
Do you know it was his lover who painted him red,
who made him stare down the bullet holes in his country’s heart?
I am not looking for roses.
I want to break like a fever.
I want to break like the Berlin Wall.
I want to break like the clouds
so we can see every fearless star,
how they never speak guardrail,
how they only say fall.
It's been a long time since I've played with this alter ego. I wrote fanfic back in the early 2000’s, mostly in Harry Potter (Snarry is my OTP), with some Buffy, X Files, X-Men (those x’s!), and I think a few stories about Picard and Q thrown in. A lot of my work was lost, because internet and time, but someone archived a couple of the HP stories here:
https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisveryinstant/
I’m here to reconnect with fandom while I convalesce, hopefully reach out to some old friends, make some new ones, indulge my burning obsessions, and maybe recreate something of the old Livejournal days (but probably not).
I’ll leave you with a scrap of a poem—from Andrea Gibson’s Pole Dancer:
Lover, did you see the sunset tonight?
Did you see Neruda lay down on the horizon?
Do you know it was his lover who painted him red,
who made him stare down the bullet holes in his country’s heart?
I am not looking for roses.
I want to break like a fever.
I want to break like the Berlin Wall.
I want to break like the clouds
so we can see every fearless star,
how they never speak guardrail,
how they only say fall.