31 days: August 3, "Like Hamlet"
Aug. 3rd, 2005 08:19 pmDeWolfe Apts., on the Feast of Ste. Lydia
The way I've been keeping up with all the fics being posted on
31_days is highly erratic to say the least. I ought to compile a proper recs list sometime this weekend (a good way to get myself to revive
dragondormant, which is not dead just on...extended hiatus). Although I'm not sure where I'll find the time because Mother is coming up this weekend for a sleepover. (Yay! While we probably will not paint each other's toes or tell scary stories in the dark, we will probably act girly and giggly in every other way imaginable. My mother has a very young personality, which is why we match well despite all the screaming fights. ^_^)
I am getting better at telling myself to write and, well, actually writing. I looked at the theme and first thought of writing for Glass Mask, but after some consideration, I realized that it wouldn't work. Eventually I had to force myself to remember exactly what I thought of Hamlet, before all the discussions and critical essays in high school English, and then (once again) the choice of character was inevitable.
Betrayals
Dedicated to
kenbu, thanks to whom I am persuaded that Sasuke is likeable after all
His first day at the Academy, after it happened, he sat through his classes in a furious, numb daze, watching teachers' mouths open and close in meaningless motions of sympathy and wondering how, /how/ they could stand at their chalkboards and presume to lecture him about hand seals and /chakra/ patterns. He could not bear their complacence, their smooth return to the rhythms of ordinary life, when his mind was still whirling from the shock, the fear, the grief, the rage. How could time continue so calmly, without a hitch, when he was still locked in that horrific moment of opening the door and seeing the blood on his brother's hands.
Seeing Itachi /smile/.
He did not notice his classmates anymore: the boys who tried to intimidate him with their bluster, the girls who smiled at him from across the aisle. He could not respond to their overtures of friendship, of camaraderie, when the image of that smile, so cold and alien, filled his mind, filled it to the point where he could see it before him even with open eyes. He saw nothing else. He knew nothing else.
They are all traitors, he said to the ceiling of an empty, echoing house, for they have betrayed me even more than that murderer, they have abandoned me to this endless confusing cry for revenge, revenge, revenge. I hate him with all the blood that flows through these eyes and veins, but never, ever will I forgive /them/.
(Such are the unseen wounds of childhood.)
END
I rather like these dedications. And if my streak of obstinacy bears out and I continue to write for every theme,
31_days will exponentially increase the number of series I write for. O_O
Yours &c.
The way I've been keeping up with all the fics being posted on
I am getting better at telling myself to write and, well, actually writing. I looked at the theme and first thought of writing for Glass Mask, but after some consideration, I realized that it wouldn't work. Eventually I had to force myself to remember exactly what I thought of Hamlet, before all the discussions and critical essays in high school English, and then (once again) the choice of character was inevitable.
Betrayals
Dedicated to
His first day at the Academy, after it happened, he sat through his classes in a furious, numb daze, watching teachers' mouths open and close in meaningless motions of sympathy and wondering how, /how/ they could stand at their chalkboards and presume to lecture him about hand seals and /chakra/ patterns. He could not bear their complacence, their smooth return to the rhythms of ordinary life, when his mind was still whirling from the shock, the fear, the grief, the rage. How could time continue so calmly, without a hitch, when he was still locked in that horrific moment of opening the door and seeing the blood on his brother's hands.
Seeing Itachi /smile/.
He did not notice his classmates anymore: the boys who tried to intimidate him with their bluster, the girls who smiled at him from across the aisle. He could not respond to their overtures of friendship, of camaraderie, when the image of that smile, so cold and alien, filled his mind, filled it to the point where he could see it before him even with open eyes. He saw nothing else. He knew nothing else.
They are all traitors, he said to the ceiling of an empty, echoing house, for they have betrayed me even more than that murderer, they have abandoned me to this endless confusing cry for revenge, revenge, revenge. I hate him with all the blood that flows through these eyes and veins, but never, ever will I forgive /them/.
(Such are the unseen wounds of childhood.)
END
I rather like these dedications. And if my streak of obstinacy bears out and I continue to write for every theme,
Yours &c.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-04 01:59 am (UTC)<3 Kim Jong Kook
김종국 <3!! to the google! ^__^~~
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-04 04:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-04 06:22 pm (UTC)You drabbles is perfect to satiate my hunger for shakesperean!Naruto. you are a great writer but that doesn´t surprise anyone at this point. Just that I´m in love with your punctuation here.
Great.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-04 07:50 pm (UTC)The Shakespeare connection with the Uchihas didn't occur to me until yesterday, when I was frantically trying to think of how to write for this theme, but once it did, it all made sense. ^_^;; (Kabuto as a cross between Iago and Horatio...wow, that really works.) Thanks for commenting; it really made my day. ^_^