texts texts texts

[onefellswoop]

this one is for texts!

Comments

2/3

[citrinesupernova]

Won’t say it wasn’t on my mind at all, how those photos make a showing of myself. Happens they’re also the best, eh, most inclusive of the tattoo.

And I’ll look forward to those someday words in person. Something more for I to dream on, aye? Truth.

Guess I started on the meaning in the ink above, because part of it’s that eh it’s a thought on continual creation yeah? Creation and discovering, something grown of what I’ve always been, given chance for [ … ] flourishing, that’s it.

[ … ]

All these words I’ve sent you and still I’ve trouble pulling speech together on that art. Feels pretentious when I set it out in texting, that’s half the trouble. Worrying I’ll speak it wrong, might be. Part of what I mean or what it means for me’s that there’s no barren land about this body, or it’s nothing needs to feel unnatural, aye? The way it did before, I mean. And sure, what flourishes is from the ways I’ve had it changed to meet myself, be one self more whole.

The music’s intrinsic, aye. The reaching upward, toward what’s beauty, that as well.

[ … ]

Here, look. There’s more to be said sometime if you’re for hearing. More I’d put maybe better into speaking than to what’s before me on a screen for thinking and rethinking. I appreciate your asking, means a lot your asking. It’s my responding doesn’t meet with the occasion, and I [ … ] want to say it right, or maybe what I mean’s I want for you to see it for thine self before I speak it more.

That. That, I think’s the case.

And on tattoos, here’s this for you, that photo sent by Sen.

[ And there it is, the infamous pool-maybe-a-pool-def-a-cigar photo. That Nova gives himself a minute to appreciate before sending along. ]

Don’t mind sending it at all, nor the chance to look it over once again. More than once again, I’ll gladly cop to that.

I say again, jesus shite but you’re heart stopping. Breathtaking, as well. Christ alive.

At the risk of [ … ] steering into troubled waters, I’ve got to wonder what’s got you thinking yourself less than mesmerizing. Not something you need to speak nor dwell upon (don’t I know the causes for eh self misliking or else downplaying can be rancid), nor is this to say I doubt you at all, only it’s strange to me you’ve not seen it. Even setting aside my own tastes, there’s no refuting the beauty you are, the absolute appeal.

Added to which. Much as I admire that photo above, I think my favorite’s that with Dodo. Both touch my heart, aye, but there’s something something to the sight of you, in your home relaxed looking alight with happiness, effected so by your girl’s presence.

Does me in, it does.

[ … ]

I’d like to set it to my phone’s background, if you’d not object?

Before I neglect answering your question, my height’s dependent on the shoes, yeah? Truth of the number stands 5’8” so middling I suppose.

Yours I can guess at right enough, having seen that shot with Sen. Guessing that’s part of the reason he passed it on, alongside his habit of quenchless trolling. Man’s of the fae, he and Rin alike.

Man knows my tastes, no denying. He’s also been speaking well of you, hopes for you, so figure it wasn’t too hard on the trolling there.

Any rate, fair’s fair and I’ll give you for that photo you’ve no remembrance of one I can’t recall myself.

[ The photo’s taken in what looks to be a particularly grimy dive bar or pub, location unknown. Nova - his shirt a neon-bright tank top, head adorned with a wreath of strung-together napkins - has one foot up on the bar, one on a precariously balanced stool. In one hand there’s a bowl of crisps half-tilted, their contents spilling through the air. The other’s fixed in a three-finger point toward someone out of frame and he seems to be attempting adamantly to assert some point or other. Behind Nova’s someone’s clearly approaching, could be a bouncer or a patron, arms out to pull him off the stool.

A second photo follows, taken shortly after the first. In this, Nova has indeed been restrained by the figure from the first photo, arms crushed at his side feet not quite touching the floor. He’s evidently aware his picture’s being taken, because he’s giving the camera an exaggerated wink and grin. ]

Like I said, there’s no memory of this night remains in my head. Gone out drinking with Lolly, Sen, whoever was around. I’m told there was some point I was making about the ascendency of simply salted crisps, none of that bbq shite.

Shame of it is, I’ve no quarrel with barbecue. Don’t know what had me up in arms that night. Do know or understand that’s where I chipped a molar. Also’s where the eh, there’s a burn scar to my wrist, came from that one.

Speaking of. That knife wound of yours, pub fight or something other? Know you said soldier and there’s no need elaborating should you prefer not, just had a few encounters of the military much inebriated stripe.

Ah, fucking [ … ] what I mean to say’s I don’t care to assume one way or another, and also I mean it about your not needing to say.

There’s other photos I’ll send your way, not leaving you with those two alone, though the rest’ll take some thinking and I've likely poured enough on you as is by way of words. Anyway, figure I’ll let those two stand in their glory.