Donatello "the air bud of war crimes" Hamato (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
othellovonryan) wrote2025-03-17 08:51 am
othellovonryan) wrote2025-03-17 08:51 am
Dream Heart
Noise.
It starts as just irritation. A metaphorical crawling under your skin. Things are too noisy, too bright, there is too much happening all the time and you can't take it all in-
It sounds so inviting, a freedom from the noise, but its wrong, its wrong, its wrong and the noise is getting louder, mechanical and foreboding as it sees you, it knows you are there, and it wants to make you apart of it.
For a moment, there is quiet.
You breathe.
And fall through water.
It starts as just irritation. A metaphorical crawling under your skin. Things are too noisy, too bright, there is too much happening all the time and you can't take it all in-
Then silence it, make it yours, make it you, take control and destroy what will not submit
It sounds so inviting, a freedom from the noise, but its wrong, its wrong, its wrong and the noise is getting louder, mechanical and foreboding as it sees you, it knows you are there, and it wants to make you apart of it.
Anatawa hitorijanai
For a moment, there is quiet.
You breathe.
And fall through water.
no subject
This seems right to her. It feels like there's something more she should add to that, something fun and bouncy and spinny, maybe? But she's not sure who she is right now, much less where, much less what feels like the right thing to say.
Well, she smiles anyway, and she pockets a few more things and hugs the nearest large object to send back the happy feeling to wherever it came from. Then it's back to the riverbank to see what's going on there.