Evangeline

Through this film of darkness covering my gaze and all that I see

my thoughts are all for you

What am I, who am I, that I long for the sheltering gloom of that dark place

why, when I am lonely, can I not seek the companionship of others

Why do I go where I am not wanted

Why am I peaceful where I am not comfortable?

I feel it would be the joy of my life to please you just once

But again and again I disappoint

Just when it is most crucial to succeed I make my slip

And am fated always to be lackluster in your eyes

Why when I am separated from that place

Do my thoughts turn toward it again and again

That dark and lonely morgue?

Just when I think I may have won your approval

You remind me that I am unwanted

Just when I think you might open the door

I find it locked against me

You shut me out and leave me with my own scattered thoughts

It seems like I belong with you

Or at least I don't belong anywhere else

Won't you please give me a chance?

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Fanchon

I can't believe it. It looks like the rusted gates to The Garden of Virtues are going to be laboriously parted by small articulated resin hands after all once more. I am glad that I am buying Lanie's Angel, but I am also a little sad. I remember disposing of Dresden along with my other dolls. I was in a vicious rage. I hesitated over Dresden's prone form, thinking, goodness, even I don't think of her as a BJD, is this really necessary? And then, blindly, cutting the strings. I can't believe I am actually talking about this now. I have not talked about it before. I regretted losing her afterward, because I did not really need to part with her. She was a sweet, special presence, a little woman. I have kept all of her eyes, wigs and clothes. Of course I will never forget the moments in which I divested all of my BJD's of their clothing, wigs and eyes. The other day Henry came around with a little velcro he had found and I grew faint, knowing that it had come fro...

Autumn approaches

The days are growing shorter. Gusts of wind blow away the last bits of red and golden leaves clinging to the trees. Ophelia walks through the garden, her heavy, curling blonde hair falling behind her suspended in a kerchief. In her arms is a basket of gourds. A hand snatches her from behind. She turns and meets a mirthful gaze. "Shelley!" She scowls unpleasantly. "Don't bother me." Ignoring her, he binds her hands, forcing her to drop her basket. The gourds roll around the hem of her threadbare skirt. "How quickly it's grown cold. Isn't it invigorating, this wind?" "Stop this nonsense. See what you've made me do? You'll have bruised squash for dinner." "My love, can't you stop a moment and look over the river? Look at the golden trees, touched with the very last bit of daylight. Have you ever noticed how they grow orange before it gets dark?" "I've never had a mind to look. And I am not 'your lo...

A Garden of Virtues

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Evangeline

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