Tickri
Abyssal lengths extend out beneath his feet. Darkness seemingly await where the body would crash into the waters at the bottom of his drop. When he feels the weight of his life crash through the waves, the heat of a seemingly endless pain extinguish in the cold arms of the water’s icy embrace. Amidst the cold, a new pain began to burn where the ferocious waters touched skin - and booming ache that’s come with the impact that he hoped would erase him in an instant.
It is not enough to beard, but that is not always understood. Exchanges aloud may be acknowledged but the words dissipate into air as if they were nothing, their ephemeral existence dissipating between our tongues.
The ground clouds rest over my eyes and obscure my vision as I step out the door. I tuck my scarf into my coat and charge towards my car, already shivering as I run away from the warm comfort of my home. It’ll be a quick trip, even though I really, really don’t want to go outside.
It won't leave my mind. They can't leave my mind. No matter how much I try to shake them off, I have to know what they're doing. But I can't let them know, but I want to know how they're doing. The best I can manage it to open Facebook and- no, I said I'd stop doing that. I don't care what they're doing. I can function perfectly without having them to plague my mind. I can do something else to occupy my time!
Facebook is open anyway and I'm typing in their name in the search bar anyway, defeating every rational thought my brain throws at me. A little peak won't hurt. Maybe they've posted something new within the past half hour? They always have been rather sporadic about updates.
A wave of cold doom and gloom over something terrible. Or perhaps something small, but it's really just your shit brain blowing it up to insane proportions as the small voice of reason speaks of how irrational this fear and worry is. You can't help it, you feel paralyzed at the mere thought of moving forward. Living through it. Oh god, why this?
You know, for a long, long time, I never actually wanted to try coffee. I wonder if it was actually want. I just flat out refused to try coffee. Often, I was curious, but I willfully refused to try it. Coffee does stunt your growth, or so they say.
I never did want them. They never really appealed to me, they seemed like such a hassle, not to mention the extra money spent and wasted because of these silly accessories! No one would even be able to see them on my head, with my hair so long and drooping over my face. It would be pointless. But mother's constant harassment (unbeknownst her) was getting cumbersome. Once shouldn't do any harm. Just for her, I don't really care about these flimsy things. I'm seated, the employee examines my ears and points out some tiny details none of us are going to care to remember within an hour. They pull out some mechanical contraption and load it with some fake ruby studded earrings, and I feel a light pinch in my ear. I wince a bit, not enough for it to matter. I reflect on the younger girl who left crying in her mother's arms after her procedure was finished. They finish with the other ear. I flash a camera perfect smile and offer a thanks, commenting on how simple the process is.
I don't care.
The employee instructs my mother and I how to care for my newly pierced ears so that they don't get infected. How tedious, I don't care for this. She escorts us to the counter to pay for the product and the procedure. What a waste of money. She wishes us a nice day, and we turn to leave like normal customers with little fuss or care. My mother turns to me with a big, prideful grin at her two percent more beautiful daughter. "Are you happy now?" She asks, puckering her lips and holding her head up high.
"Yeah, they're pretty cool." I reply with a sheepish grin. I don't care.
writing since 2014 · 9 entries · 9 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Tickri showed up.
1longest streak
9days written
0entries / week
the words Tickri reaches for
carecoffeecoldmindfeetbestmoneyheadmother'semployeeearshourearmatterarmsprocedure