Some day, Some date - mid - 90s
"Happiness is like a butterfly;
the more you chase it,
the more it will allude you,
but if you turn your attention
to other things,
it will come
and sit gently on your shoulder." (Thoreau)
Dear Darling,
Listen to this poem, as it tells nothing but the truth! I myself have been quite distracted as of late, and have managed to smile more - even grin my terribly sexy grin! For as I've been moving into my new room, I haven't thought of my heart-ache at all. Not once. Or twice.
I know I have hardly written about anything but her, lately, so let me endeaver to fill you in....
I got my scholership! I wept tears of joy when I read the acceptance letter. Truth be told, it stung my eyes to do so, as I've pretty much worn out my tear ducts recently - but I was so thrilled. So anyhow, today I moved into one of the UNIV rooms, at Oxford University! Aghh! I can't believe it! Finally. These are my current range of emotions, by the way.
The room is not exactly small, but quaint nonetheless. There's the main room with two beds, a fireplace, a kitchen area to the left and and an on-suite toilet to the right. Luxury! The walls are a colour which remind me of the cream that you see people pour over strawberries; I wonder what old secrets are conealed within them! The two beds would indicate that I'm to share this sumptuous room with someone - but I'm not rattled - for I will still have more space than I've ever had before, sharing it with only one other being.
So overall it has been a fabulous welcome to Oxford, and my new beginning. There was only one thing, as I was meandering through the hallways - pure white walls dotted with picturesque portrayals that someone important birthed, all framed in gold, shining auburn, or bronze. For there, I bumped into a smartly dressed man carrying a box, who consequently almost dropped his burdon. In the proccess I saw the flash of a name-tag, and a brief scowl before he sauntered off.
He looked like an amateur politician. His name was pretty peculiar, something like Myke or Micloft or something.
Any-who, better dash; I must unpack my best second-hand-suits before my mind unravells into the mesh that only understands that one name; Eliza.
Farewell for now.
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Amor Before Moriarty - A Sheriarty Fanfiction (Sherlock)
Fanfiction"Sherlock, how many ways must I say it for you to understand? I'm love before Moriarty. I'm Eros before Moriarty. I'm more than Moriarty. Amor before Moriarty!" When Mrs Hudson discovers a wad of well-loved and secretive looking paper in Sherlock's...
