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 The screwtap letters, Notebooks for no one
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John Lovegood
Posted: Jul 19 2007, 02:06 AM


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[OoC: If you feel the need to comment then go right ahead, he won't know it's from your character though unless they sign their name, which is optional. Most of this is just John's feelings, as he finds words rather hard to use when spoken, or my bad since of humor--for example, the image below. He feels a serious disconnect with human beings in general, so he writes to people in his notebooks, and never sends it.

Not one to follow any set system of anything very long, John is likely to change it up completely at seemingly random moments, and do a normal journal entery, or as normal as possible for him. He might even just put up random quoted. And don't expect teen angst all the time, or anything like that. Not his style.

I felt the need to explain because many people misinterpret. He writes the truth as he sees it, and his intentions are rarely malicious, and despite the lack of understanding for most of the basic principals other people use daily (which he makes up for, barely, by understand things you and I probably never will) he knows people are always upset when faced with the truth, so he leaves it all in here. If you happen to find it laying about somewhere, well I'm sure he didn't do it intentionally.. right? Right? -end transmission-]

user posted image

WHO AM I TO SAY ANYTHING?
    You don't look good or bad.
    You don't look left or right.
    You don't look high or low, but you sure as hell keep your head down.
    You don't want to offend or draw attention. You say light things everyone will agree with, and fall in love with an idealised flaw--and turn it into yourself. Your personality is nothing, because people can't disagree with nothing.
    They can't be upset with nothing.
    They can't be jealous or look down on nothing.
    They just pass it by, like it's not there, and you wonder why you feel so alone.
    You're underestimating them.
    There is no name for the colour of you eyes.
    There is no style in the strands of your hair.
    Their is no expression in the flesh of your face, except for that carved smile, carved deeper then you realise. Your innocence is your shield, how fitting it is you don't even notice the loss of it. At night you think about pulling the legs off of spiders just to get by, instead you lay and stare up at the sky wondering how hard it would be to become a star.

    No one was ever carried through life at the anger of a star.
    No one ever started war with a star.
    A star never hurt anyone for revenge, or died for spite.
    It just existed until it ended and dealt with the consequences that came after without protest.

-John Minerva
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