nadiabobadia
I don't even want to count how many cards I have. Birthdays, thank yous, miss yous, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Halloween, get well soons. We pick cards for meaningless events, on days like any other, to say something that we wish we could say on our own, in our own words. Why do we send cards? Because our true feelings, the way things really work, are not poetic and pretty enough nor do they rhyme appropriately enough to share. Being honest is the second most boring thing you can do.
I think it's about time someone invented something great. I'm a little tired of having to take cars and planes, could we get to teleportation already? I am pretty sick of having to remember things, I'm ready for my computer brain by now. It's high time for a new form of nourishment. Eating is so primitive. I'd say we've got some inventing to do.
There's a tangle of souls in front of me, all interconnected and all spawning from my heart. No matter which way I go, the tangle intensifies, turning into a knot unable to be undone. A knot that intertwines us all, in imperfect harmony, wrapping around me, soul by soul, until I'm choking on my own overflow of love.
Everybody has their flare. Some people have loud flare and some people's are quiet. Some are easy to see and others you can't find. Some flares might be bright yellow and purple polka-dotted with glitter down the sides. Some flares could be baby blue with buttons on the border. No matter what, flare is flare. You can see my shimmery outside flare, I meant to catch your eye. But can you see my inside flare?
Chocolate could save the world if it wanted to. Did you cheat on your girlfriend? Go buy her a box of chocolates! Feeling lonely? Chocolates could get you laid. Fighting a war? Give that dictator some nice cacao and we'll have world peace. Do not underestimate chocolate.
Unless it's someone who doesn't like chocolate. Then, you're fucked.
I don't want a microphone. I need a macrophone. I need to be loud, for once. To scream, and hear my voice bounce in between the buildings. I need to make sure you can hear me.
But, I'm not quite sure what to say.
With all of this hay around me, I'd say I'm safely hidden. Cuddling in the warm, yellow grains, I don't mind that it's a little dark. Will they find me? Maybe. Hopefully, someone venturing into this haystack is willing to search high and low. I'm one of a kind, not easy to find; but once you do, I'll stick with you.
Being brave isn't so easy. It's much simpler to sit and cower, like a coward. The world is full of mean people and disasters and monsters and boys who break hearts. I never asked you to be brave. I only wanted you to survive.
I never wanted to be brave. I only want to survive.
That fragrance you're wearing, is simply intoxicating. I can't seem to keep my hands off of you. When you pass by me and that scent tickles my nose I can't help but turn my head and swoon. Are you everything I want? No. But you smell so nice. Do I love you? No. But you sure drive my nose wild.
I can hear the alarm distinctly. Cutting across the air quickly, bouncing over the rain droplets and approaching my window, my ear. Encircling the room, surrounding me in the piercing, powerful sound that I cannot escape. I can't bear to hear it any longer, surely my ears will bleed, but it simply continues on. No sympathy, no compassion, not even the slightest notice of my pain let alone my existence. Simply ringing, indefinitely, circular, and unbearable. Did I expect much else? With a head as cluttered as mine, is it any wonder it's all turned against me? With a heart as untamed as this, there had to be some brain-interference. I can't think, I don't even know if I want to. Only alarm, steady and unwavering, blocking all thoughts, all fears, all reason.
writing since 2011 · 10 entries · 10 days shown up
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flarehearsimplysurebraveeasychocolatecardsalarmheadheartbrainnosenicelovesurvive