From The author of man-in-the-moon marigolds...
"I found unanswered questions lurking in the depths of the Hundofer's vegetable cart..."
You see, we create worlds with our words. Sometimes it alls eems a superficial part of ourselves, yet when we re-read it, we find much in our works that tell about our character.
The people mill about you, voices rising into a cacophony of sound and
music that rise and fall like an orchestra. Your smile is one of a lone boat
sliding between paddocks of your teeth, a twitch of muscle. I’ve seen your wide,
innocuous smile and your transparent cloudy eyes, I’ve seen you cock your head
in vanilla puzzlement while you imagine encounters with pornographic actors.
Yes, I know about the nights clicking on emotion and intimacy, I know that you
crave something beyond a hug and a kiss, you are a succubus in a convent with
demure skirts and lacy underwear.
Yet I’ve seen you sit upon the hard tile, and
wonder, like most foolish young girls do, about love.
-You cry fears into shower sprays-
Adapted from my latest work written during the exams, [
Cry in the rain - vignettes].Don't bother to understand if you aren't interested in language or the fineart of it. Don't bother to understand me. Just stop. Stop. Don't assume.
You see, I am a pathetic person who wishes with great ambition things which would rain upon me -- the undeserved. I do no work during the exams, heck I never concentrated. I know what is important to me, yet I destroy everything for I cannot resist my love for words. Yes, if guilt were like french fries, I would be the oil seeping beneath the crisp, the trans fat lurking behind every bite, the ridiculously high amounts of sodium and the poisons you ingest. I would be the abominition of fine cooking, the the curse of housewives, I would be the cause of the rising obesity rate and low self-esteem in obese children, which in turn lets them commit suicide or go on mass-murdering sprees. You see, I am the guilty one. So kill me, please, torture me, break me apart, so all I can feel is the pain and forget everything.I am a liar, because I do not wish for these things to happen to me, I am a freeloader, for I just want the results without any hard work, I am the damned, and I am me.Angsty post. Yikes.
Just hope for the best. This thing that wafts like nicotine we call hope. This four letter foul word.
Hope.
It's partially non existent.
