drammaturga: (pic#8290889)
[personal profile] drammaturga
[ The message is written in a tidy scrawl. ]

Well, well! What an interesting stage we have here! The props and the actors all seem to be in the beginnings of the first act, busy as little mice with setting the mood. But I wonder, I wonder. Who, then, is the audience? And who is the lead? Or are we all equal shares that role, our toils and struggles amusing for the invisible and inaudible applause? A wonder, then, as to what happens to our homes. I know I, at least, am not from here, and judging by a quick glance through this mystical book, neither is anyone else who reads this. Then why, pray tell, have I been summoned to this performance?

- ∞
indestructigirl: (Default)
[personal profile] indestructigirl
[Claire isn't stupid. She knows these notebooks are being watched, every entry likely being watched. She also don't really care at the moment. She has a question and figures whoever is in charge - if anyone is in charge - already knows the answer so it can't hurt to put it out there.

She really hopes she's right about that as she begins to write.]


So, call me curious. Who has been here before and who is new?
doubledead: (the drawingboard)
[personal profile] doubledead
[The handwriting that graces the page is blocky and clear, printed by a careful hand, though occasionally letters would shift from capitol to lower case as if the writer was in a hurry or simply careless. He is, after all, only writing to himself, or so he thinks.]


DAY 1

I have noticed several of my fellow guests have been having trouble removing their collars. I must make it a point to tell them that it is very easy! All they must do is remove their heads.

TO DO/
find way onto roof
obtain flying deer
allthekeys: (L)
[personal profile] allthekeys
[The handwriting is graceful, each letter almost art in and of itself]

As winter chill dims northern sky,
and summers warmth drifts into dreamer's eye,

Where words become naught but memory,
and love brings only newborn misery,

Where new crisp air cries for remembered warmth,
And loss lingers to close to remember peace,

Death is ever the dearest friend,
and life a distant, unwavering foe,

Hope seems hard to find,
Here where light dims to night,

But shadow might prove the truer goal,
Than distant lady in tower of bright,

We must gather and forward go,
Or else what glitters shall not be gold,

Only truth can unlock the path....

October 2019

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