dear producer,

well, i don't like it here anymore.
i'll use lj, je suis merles.
also [link], where you can see me also.
i'll catch up with the wonderrrful artists on here from time to time.
if you've got an lj, tell me please.

I am an awful person.
A moth, a milk moth, a flecked brown and white moth flipped around my room, beneath the light. Probably tired. It would fly up to the bulb and half-heartedly drop, the fall to the floor, like a scrap of paper. I could have set it free. I trapped it beneath a green pot. I left it there whilst I slept. The next afternoon, I checked its little prison. It was still alive, but sleeping. I could have set it free. I waited for it to wake. It didn’t; I replaced the pot. And now, several hours later, it has flopped to the ground. It’s antenna moves. I push it with a paper clip. It carries on waving. I replace the lid.
I could set it free.
But I just know, I just know.
I’m going to let it die.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

farewell.
yours,

bethalie.