| Current mood: | cranky |
| Current music: | cowboy dan modest mouse |
The room is quiet; perhaps because he does not share the living space, as one can tell by the immaculate state that the entire area is in. It would be fair to call Clark Lowry a neat freak. His slender fingers tap against the wood of his desk as the only sound that infiltrates the silence of the dusk. Shafts of hazy light stream through the sheer curtains to play shadows across his fair skin and create a hue of gold to the dark strands of his hair. He shifts lightly in his seat as he raises his fingers to the keyboard before him with a small frown etched into his features.
Huh. Writing introductory posts have never been my strong point. I never quite know what to say. How to say it. To think I am a cocky bastard. I seem so fragile in my writing. My expression of myself comes in writing. Mostly stories. I do not do the emo lyric route. Hi, I hate Dashboard Confessional. I enjoy making fun of them with my girlfriend, Rosanna. Look, I am already travelling quite fast. I am like an ADHD kid who ate a pot of sugar. I bounce from this to that without a second glance behind me. Setting things up can be a good thing, right?
Rudolph Clark Lowry the III. We can understand why I go by Clark, right? I always sound so pompous when I say my full name. Probably on purpose. I enjoy letting it roll off my tongue as I taunt people in the most nasal of voices. Just as I taunt father with my hair and electric style. I guess that is why he sent me from receiving home-school in Colorado; Vail, to be precise. I lived there because I snow-ski. It is his winter home. I saw him a couple of times with whatever conquest he brought home from the bunny slopes. He had this dream that I would be like him. The upstanding citizen of the United States who was heir to the company his father was president of. Sorry to disappoint, but I am not who he wants. That is why I am at doveracademy. He called it my wakeup call.
Thanks, Pa. I am a senior. Eighteen; almost nineteen, celebrate? I'm about music. That is my true passion. I love the vintage life. Hell, I even wear pinstripes from time to time. I do not think there is a label for me. I just am. I be as I want. I exist for my own pleasure. I think that scares my father. He is a mold. He is who others believe him to be, but not I. So, the big question. Where is mother? Two years ago, Liberty (as she will only be called now) felt called to go find herself in Mexico. I have not seen her since. I hear she joined a hippie commune in Arizona. Who knows, maybe she will be the next big cult. It surprises people to hear it was my mother who walked out. She sent me one postcard to inform me that she had cut all ties and was born again. Effectively, she told me that she no longer had a son or a daughter; hi, I have a sister.
Huh. I feel like I just wrote a pity party. I'm Clark. I'm too good for emotions.
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linleyallman
2003-04-28 06:44
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If that's being "bad" at introductions, I hate to imagine what other things you're possibly "bad" at. ::smirks slightly, putting a hand up to wave:: I'm Linley, Lins.. whatever. Call me anything, just not something silly like Tito Puente. Always good to have another person around who appreciates music for what it is, though.. maybe we'll see each other sometime. (Reply to this) (Thread) |
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