nineteen;

[femininecharms.livejournal.com]

[written]

I'm getting more and more worried now. First all that went down, and then nothing? It's not like him. There's gotta be something going on.

But then he would have talked to us, because he does. He always does.


Except here. Maybe we aren't good enough anymore. No, that's stupid. That's not how it's like, and I know it.

I really messed up. That's how it's like. I messed up everything.

..Okay. So I messed up. Then I need to do something to fix it, right? Not sit around moping about and writing down my precious feelings in a crappy journal like a [a splotch of ink as she tries to come up with a good metaphor for someone who writes down their precious feelings in crappy journals. fails. leaves it] Gotta get off my butt and do something productive instead. I need a hobby or something.


..Wait. I have a hobby.




[managed to get to the music room fairly quickly, much thanks to Zuko's map, and what do you know. it's empty. how lucky, because Smellerbee wouldn't play anything if someone else was listening.

as it is, she sits herself down to practice the piano for a bit. only scales at first, but after a while she starts branching out, making up little melodies on the go. not. very good ones. but, hey, she's never claimed to be a pro.

hasn't noticed she left the journal wide open on the floor right beside the pedals]


[ooc: open post, because they are all the rage. also she needs more cr :<]