A f T E R   T h E   A E T h E R N E T          ][ radiolullaby.smol.pub
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erste

I believe I have some kind of tradition of naming my first journal entry in German. So, let's not break with tradition, shall we?


                        ☆*━━━━━━ † ━━━━━━*☆

I don't have a plan for this yet. Possibly, just fragments. Probably illegible. A barely audible wish: to breathe again.


I've held onto this one last grain of sand from Fantasia for so long now, that sometimes I've nearly forgotten it's here in my hand.

But then I see the half moons etched into the lines on my palms like bird-steps imprinted into dried concrete, and I remember.

I keep waiting. I'm not sure what for.

Who for.

Why for.


I haven't let the light go out, somehow.


                        ☆*━━━━━━ † ━━━━━━*☆

Everyone dies young. Some of us keep walking around.


Some of us get sent back, like Olórin.


                        ☆*━━━━━�� † ━━━━━━*☆

The shoreline isn't empty. There are shadow whispers, and shadow shapes, blurred beneath the moon and waves.


Perhaps this is my way of saving myself, again.


                                                                     >>>EOF


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