There was a song in this forest, too, but it was a savage song, whispering of madness and tearing and rage.
Sooo, you guys might have noticed I skipped a day for this tag, and I’m very sorry about that, but life got in the way eek.
Any decent human being, witch or otherwise, has the capacity to do good in this world. It’s merely a case of whether one chooses to do so.
That’s the secret to performance: conviction. The right note played tentatively still misses its mark, but play boldly and no one will question you. If one believes there is truth in art – and I do – then it’s troubling how similar the skill of performing is to lying. Maybe lying is itself a kind of art.
There are many different types of beginnings. And who’s to say we haven’t imagined our lives up to this point? Who’s to say we haven’t been propelled into this world from a parallel universe?