pouryou
Breakout album, I think to myself. That'll happen sure enough. Of course it will. I'll be a success, I'll be famous, I'll be everything I've wanted to be since I learned to want. My family won't be secretly ashamed of me. I won't have to listen to my father stuttering over the phone to my grandparents when they ask about me. People won't have to ask about me. My answers will lie across channels for all to see.
This is a bit ridiculous. It's hot (it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses, aha sure sure) but I can't drink enough water. I just keep gulping and gulping but nothing happens. It's like I could fade into dust without it. My veins are popping up because I'm hot, up through my skin. They're starting to hurt. They're getting bigger. Spidery. Blue. Bigger. I growl.
Tell me about your traditions. Tell me how you run to things so illogical when in times of despair. Tell me how you fall deeper and deeper into the valley of ignorance, soaked in darkness that you can't escape, can't perceive. Must be comforting. Must be wonderful. Things I want but can't bring myself to have.
Sick and tired of the same old you? Want to feel COOL? Want to completely lose your originality and just blend in with your fellow teens? Head on down to your local mall and we'll help you! Our unique service offers feedback on your outfit, weight and hair delivered by the fake-tanned ugg-clad experts you aim to emulate - AND this is done so at a significant decibel level so you are guaranteed to hear them all the way from the bus stop at which they are located! But be quick - this offer only lasts until you find the better places to shop, so once again: hurry into your local mall asap! (sorry, no rainchecks)
Despite the fact that she was real. Despite the fact that he could see her, solid and existing. Despite the fact that she held in her palm a sphere of glowing light, something that science, logic, his own brain dictated could not be possible. How can someone hold up a ball of glowing matter? 'It isn't something tangible so it's not possible', he protested weakly in his mind. 'It's got to be a trick. A torch. Something.' But the amused quirk of her mouth and glittering eyes told him that there was evidence of his thoughts on his face, and he could feel himself go pale as the white light she grasped.
Despite the fact that she was real. Despite the fact that he could see her, solid and existing. Despite the fact that she held in her palm a sphere of glowing light, something that science, logic, his own brain dictated could not be possible. How can someone hold up a ball of glowing matter? 'It isn't something tangible so it's not possible', he protested weakly in his mind. 'It's got to be a trick. A torch. Something.' But the amused quirk of her mouth and glittering eyes told him that there was evidence of his thoughts on his face, and he could feel the colour drain from his face.
Together, he thought with a bitter twist of the lips. Shoving his hands even further inside his pockets, he trudged down the shore's rickety path with a moody scowl, kicking a pebble along the way. Her words played over and over in his head with every flick of his leg. Together. Kick. Forever. Kick.
Her voice, playful singsong tone and all, pierced his thoughts. Her winking face appeared before him, a smokey apparition beyond his reach. He felt like he was going insane. It was ridiculous - a cliché, an utterly stupid thing to think, but he couldn’t help himself: why did it have to turn out this way?
The pebble clattered noisily as he gave it a final, savage kick. It sailed through the air, black and shining and mocking him in a sad kind of way that only he could imagine, before burying itself deep in the warm tan sand, completely submerged, lost to the rest of the world. He went on his way.
“I feel so alive,” she said. Twirling around, with her dress that flared up into sixty or more colours, she skipped happily down the pavement.
“It’s like everything’s finally been put into place, you know?” She stopped and stared up into the sky, squinting her eyes against the sun. As her eyes dropped to rest on him, a solemn figure cutting a gray silhouette into her kaleidoscope of rainbow shades, her smile faltered. He always had been able to see right through her.
“It’s not perfect,” she admitted. “There are still days when…” she trailed off, biting her lip. Visibly shaking her head, she forced her smile back onto her face. “But I’m healing. I’m living. I’m alive.”
writing since 2012 · 8 entries · 7 days shown up
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despitefactfaceeyesglowingpossibleheadkickthoughtslightsurealiverestsmilepebbleridiculous