vanillabliss

vanillabliss

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Holes everywhere. But despite all the empty spaces, a sponge can hold something. A hole may be empty, but it can be filled and hold things in it's curved palm. How wonderful!

offer

He offers you a gift. It's not wrapped in flashy gift wrap to distract you of what's inside. It's there in plain sight, but we're too busy chasing the gifts in the fancy wrapping paper to notice the obvious beauty of this one. The greatest gift of all, that only a few notice & accept.

She wanted to know what her future would be. So she made sure not to make her future turn out a certain way. But how is that possible? You can't see the future and until it comes and transforms into the present. And then you must take it and run with it, going as far as you can, as well as you can. But she wanted to know the future, so some days she did nothing, and other days she did crazy things. But of all things, she did not do what her heart told her do, she did what her mind told her to, impulsive and spontaneous, and then Curiosity killed the cat.

As the dust cloud diminishes, a figure emerges in the distance. Approaching quickly are a herd of horses. Their riders are tall and lean, strong and confident. Bringing an air of wilderness and mystery, the cowboys kept the town safe. Dealing with saloon-disrupting fiascoes and disappearing into the night. Only to come back again, when they're needed again. Their timing despicable and efficient, they're backstage heroes.

ivy

Trauma trauma. Clinging to my memory and not letting go. The past grows longer and spinier as the ugliness intensifies. I don't want to reminisce, or I'll just cry. And the watery tears will feed the ivy. It won't stop growing, it's on the move.

We took a field trip to a long deserted beach, where the tide had once lapped at the sand we stood on, but had since receded back a few hundred feet. Littered in the sand were old gadgets and gizmos that people in the beach houses had once owned. My eye caught onto a telephone from the 70's. It was long antiquated and the paint peeled in banana yellow strips, but I knew the receiver had once listened in on whispered conversations, and the spin dial had once turned round and round to reach the voice of beloved friends. It held memories, so many old memories. Why would anyone want to throw that out? Scattered on the deserted beach were more objects of the like, antique and rusting in time. But to me, it wasn't a junkyard, it was a trove of treasures.

The market was bustling with ruby red apples and shiny scaled fish, painted porcelain china and handmade quilted blankets. But more diverse than the products that the vendors promoted, were the customers hungry for the best and the freshest and the most beautiful. These were the people who came by with drastically different desires than the next, all heading their own way and minding their own business. Then they'd be back next week for more.

Beside the office door, was a poster. It read "Glee club. Wednesdays after school. No materials needed." So I went to try it out. They said we didn't need to bring anything, but they forgot to tell us to remember our beautiful singing voices and creative dance skills. The two things I didn't have.

Can the sky really pour down so many droplets of water all at once? Can the waves really grow and swallow villages whole? Can volcanoes really spit out liquid fire? Can humans truly love wholeheartedly? Is God really there? I'm can't be certain, but I can believe.

Her brother called her fat all the time, even though she was thin as a pencil core. Watching her eat annoyed him to no end. Always being penultimate, he had found a way to criticize her. She ate because she had a deep passion for the art of cuisine, and because the delicacies were just so exquisitely delicious. Going for the golden fluffy cookies, she couldn't keep herself from a second helping. Taking a bite into the floury goodness, she relished the delicate layers of vanilla and the scowl on her brother's face.

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writing since 2010 · 24 entries · 23 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means giraffeslovepopsicles showed up.

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on this day 16 years ago

giraffeslovepopsicles wrote about fangs
“They were as sharp as the blacksmith's best sword creation. As white as a newly formed pearl. As scary as dying. They gleamed, they glimmered, they beckoned. One look at the fangs sent the boy st…”

the words giraffeslovepopsicles reaches for

futuresirenbeautifulheldgiftemptygoldenskyblueredbestwavescrimsonlovefaceeye