Alexander Barrett
"I'm going to brave the wasps and head to the moon now."
Mad Musings • Stendhal Syndrome • • Repent
Balderdash And Piffle
"I'm going to brave the wasps and head to the moon now."
Mad Musings • Stendhal Syndrome • • Repent
Balderdash And Piffle
I constructed a poppet to charm you, and to have my wicked way, but even the clay refused to yield to my desire. I formed your image but as it dried, the doll started to crumble. Horrified, I rushed for water, bathing the decaying remains within the chalice, pushing the arms back into the crude sockets, and opening the eyes once more with a careful scrape of my fingernail. I commanded that you would be safe, and know nothing more than the heartache that you had caused me. I carved the poppet a heart fit to break, and then the chest cleaved once more, opening up before me, showing the secret components that I’d hidden away within. The cold damp clay warmed at my touch, and it was then that I realised that your power was greater than mine. The spell that you have woven about my heart is stronger than anything I can muster. I am doomed, and now I have chosen the path to ruin, all in your name. I spoke some rudimentary words of dissolution, and then pummeled what remained with my fists, turning what was a moment ago my last hope, into a pile of dust.
I’ll have you yet.
I’m claiming my power.
The Page of Wands, The Empress, The Nine of Swords
I’m sorry officer, we were playing, and well, the knife just slipped through his spine. I saved you the trouble of drawing a white line round him - I made it all join up with my hopscotch grid.
It splits my brow and blinds my eyes, little men live inside my skull and they are mining for sapphires inside of this little turtle shell- I wish my eyes were quite that blue, but they are dull and misty, hazy like my soul. Wispy whispers.
I had blankets draped between the arms of the furniture in the living room when I was younger, and I lived inside my magic cave. I was a magpie even then, and anything that sparkled would be my new plaything. There was a secret box deep down beneath all of my treasures, and one day I found my Mother’s emerald ring on the floor of the bathroom, so it went straight into the box. I forgot about it, and seemingly so did my Mother, until one day when I decided to take my treasure box to school and the emerald ring fell out, the teacher asked me where the pretty ring came from, and I said that my magic box ate it, because my Mother had left it in a puddle on the floor, and so it needed to be kept safe. She told me to put it back in the box and that we could put it in the office where it would be very safe until the end of the day.
My Mother simply said that we were very alike, because neither of us were very good at looking after the ring. Years later she sold it for scrap metal.
Society has crumbled, the end is nigh.
“Can we not dwell on the past?”
