012710

I'm sitting in class thinking about how her voice doesn't suit her well. how she isn't sitting correctly, how she doesn't look the way she should. She's not who I had created her to be, born from that flash of creative energy in the side of my brain not devoted to calculations, whichever one that is. I can never keep them straight, the left or right, right or wrong.

Fucking Ray Bradbury syndrome, his characters manifest themselves and talk to him, recount to him their stories of their sci-fi adventures in the future or a past that never existed. The man was a lunatic, literary genius or not, and I like to maintain that I still create my own stories and characters, but there she is.