Silver-Ravyn

God I love that woman.  She keeps me going long after I'd have fallen.  She picks me up from the dust, brushes me off, and puts me back on my feet. I love my Tyger. <3 Ravyn

There is a poem by Dorothy Parker that begins . . . Her mind lives in a quiet room, A narrow room, and tall, With pretty lamps to quench the gloom And mottoes on the wall. My mind lives in a similar place sometimes. It is a quiet room, very quiet. And it's somewhat narrow and it might be tall. I've never really looked up. I mostly sit and look down or at nothing. But there are no lamps, pretty or otherwise. This room is very dark. The gloom is what I seek. The gloom makes it all go away. I go to this room to become one with the gloom. The thing about this room is that I can't stay for very long. Just a minute or two. And sometimes a

Don't be so scared, small one, though you can feel your heart beating against these bars of a cage that never was there. Beating itself, senseless and broken, against something that never existed. So stop it, dearest, stop trying to feel this obligation to really live. Maybe if you stop trying, you can really stop breaking, stop getting caught in this tide. It was silly of you to ever believe in knights and lords and ladies anyways. Silly to believe in fairytales and dreams. Prince Caspian was just in storybooks too.