My writing mojo has been a bit…wilted. Not sure why. Well, I suspect things, but denial runs deep in me. Driving home today I saw this thing on the road that looked like a huge pile of coconut grass hair. It was probably just an old T-shirt and sadness, but it reminded me of those monkeys made from coconuts, but it was fairly large, so I made it into a road orangutan. Pitiful thing. I must memorialize it.
So many random thoughts. “Ceniza” earned her cloak the other day. I am a terrible mage. It made me think of all the qualities of true alt players: we truly are Jack of All Trades, and Master of No Specs. I can’t play Arcane, Frost, and though I raised her as Fire, even Young Leet Druid tells me, “Fire is too hard.” It is. The cast times are ridiculous, the procs are far too tier gear dependent, and Ceniza just looks pissed off most of the time. But I love her, you know? She’s sad, and complicated, and passionate: she wants to set the world on fire, but the counter-spells are too strong. I wish I could just hug her, and kiss her fevered brow. It’s going to be all right, sweet mage…
This is when I just want to cry. It seems that none of my beautiful girls know where they are headed. When my misperceived free will questions my faith that I can change things, be better, do better: it is not meant to be. But you are still beautiful, Ash Witch.
Sugar&Blood 