rarl4eva
Splash, the sound water makes when it spills. It splashes around, and pours away. You never see it again, after that one breathtaking moment of iridescent droplets flying through the air. Before you realize it, it slips around and through and under, and leaves you with nothing, leaves you staring at the only thing left, a shiny spot on the ground.
residue. Thats what my thoughts are now. I used to have these creative captivating amazing thoughts. My mind was like a book. Now i just lay there, and there's just residue. Sad, old, dried up remnants of things that i can't come up with on my own anymore. That's all that's left. I'm sorry.
Thorns are exploding across my forearm as I type this. Brittle, bitter, and dull. As if someone were stabbing my wrist, but more... dull, like hammer blows. The bruises are thorny, giant stripy patches of green and yellow across most of the front of my wrist and a big purply red blotch on the back of my arm. Pain thorns are not red, or black, or bright lights as people say. Black is soft and comforting. Red is vicious and elusive. Light, light is too bright to be thorny pain. This is a purpling brown, with green, like my wrist. It aches and tears at you, but it's never elusive. Before you even call, the pain is there, brown muddy mucky blows at your flesh.
My mind is blank when I read this word. Blank as a gray silvery floating piece of fabric shimmering in the moonlight. Blank as a canvas covered in black and purpling fading streaks of watercolor. Blank as the echoing notes at the beginning of a miserably poignant sonnet.. set to music. Well, again, now it's not blank, it's filled with darkness and gossamer. But nothing about trunks. Hmmm... Unless you filled a trunk with darkness and gossamer, making a little couchy window seat, all fading and purple with silks that rippled as you sit to relax with a crooning letter in your hand, or an age long mystery...
It fizzes in your glass, it fizzes in your mouth, but it doesn't fizz down your throat. I find that amazingly wonderful and drink ridiculous amounts of it. ahhhh...
glimmer! shine! sparkle! embrace the cheesy spirit of the new year!
But ignore the shiny glimmer of tears in the corners of my eyes, because this is a happy time, isn't it? ISNT IT? Well be happy then. You don't have to care about everything. You're just a person. People aren't perfect. So let the tears glimmer as they fall, and pretend they're cheery new year sparkles. Just LET THEM FALL, and disappear on the ground, forgotten by everyone but me.
paintbrush, flying, whirling, mixing, yellow, gold, green, trees and grass and meadows, darkness, purples, silvery inferno of shade, merci pour le venin, quiet music in the background, accentuating, screaming, but it just all mixes together so perfectly.
I love art palettes. The vintagey wooden kind with like smears of oil paint all over them. of course, MY pallettes never look like that, i end up with a brown mess of whatever color i was using to paint... still, I love watching people paint and mix all the colors and get such amazingly beautiful combinations ^_^
I don't think anyone in our school has a secretary, as in the person. my dentist has one, she's SO much nicer than the guy, I'm pretty sure HE has a vendetta against me or something. A few years ago my mom found a secretary at a garage sale, (as in the furniture) and now its in the little room she uses as her office. Its so interesting to look at, the whole thing is woven out of reeds, and you can see everything interconnecting...
i love transportation. i dont even know why, i just love sitting on a bus, or a train, looking at the people there. in Russia, when we visited, we had to take the bus or the subway EVERYWHERE and mom always complained that it was such a bother, but i loved it. i dont even know why. i guess I'm a city girl at heart ^_^
writing since 2011 · 16 entries · 13 days shown up
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