I don't want to hurt you.
I want to hurt. At least then I'll feel something. I can't go back to being numb like that again. I felt so, so dead.
Does that mean you feel alive now?
Like you wouldn't believe. Just being with you wakes me up.
Oh, really?
Please don't leave me. I can't go back.
I can't stay.
If you leave, I'll die again!
"HELP"
"There's no hope," the monotone sound of Sarah's voice echoing throughout the silent forest. I could not see her face, but I knew she was angry. "We have to at least try." I am trying to stay positive, ignoring the heaviness on my chest, my sweaty palms, my racing heart. "Correction- you have to try," her voice now sounded like it was mocking me, "You're the one who got us lost, now you've got to figure it out."
Each breath that leaves a cloud of fog before seems heavier then the last. The moon that lights up the sapphire...
"There's a deer in the hallway!" yelled sixth-grader Emily Sagashi as she opened the door to the fourth graders' classroom.
As a mass, the students threw themselves at the door. Stumbling into the hall, they clamored, "Where is it? Where?" But Emily had already ran down the stairs. Now she could be heard yelling the same thing to the third graders.
Normally the teachers would gather the students back inside, but the promise of a wild animal storming the halls was such a surprise, and so unusual, that the students took off in every direction. All Emily had said was...
I just stepped off the train, and the heat is unbearable. Before I left my apartment, it was already at 90. That was at 5:45 this morning.
Now, it is the end of the day, and I am stopping to grab a drink with a friend. They are visiting the city, so I have meet them up in a place I normally don't go to. Well, except for work.
The heat is so intense, taking the train was easier than walking. I would normally walk but this would have been too much of an exercise.
Michael Phelps would have been...
I don't know when I stopped believing in unicorns and rainbows. But I know I was a kid. A very troubled kid. Life wasn't as easy as it should have been for a child. Everything was bigger and scarier. Especially the things and the people that were supposed to make me feel safe and protected.
Home wasn't safe. I thought it was. I thought we were the Cleavers. My parents were perfect. My mother worked hard. She kept a beautiful home and prepared perfect meals. She kept her kids in line and made sure we were all just right before...
"If life were only that easy."
The boy stood up and began his usual every day routine. He reached for his old and torn up sweat pants and applied them to his lower body with ease. He then walked over to his closet and yanked out the first t-shirt that he felt, moving it towards his face.
"It smells, but eh, it is Exodus!"
He put the musty shirt on and made his way into the kitchen. His sister, as usual, was making what he considered the greatest French Toast in the world. He knew that this claim was most...
Tigger stretched and yawned, as was typical--4 or five times a day, in between naps. But now, now it was spring. His tired old arthritic bones had changed his pace, but his prowess remained. As a long haired Cat, he was among the most regal. He resembled a Bobcat, but with long hair--a mane like no other domestic cat. I opened the sliding glass door for him, certain that he'd be out for the night, when the neighborhood Fox appeared. I tried to sway him back inside, but he was gone. In a moment, Captain, the Family dog came round...
Somewhere across the field, there were worlds unexplored, lives never lived. Somewhere over that field there was a dream, there was a magical land in which -
She knew she romanticising it. She knew that fairy tales were just that, she knew that living happily ever after was not a reality. She knew that across the field there was little more than...more fields.
But they were unexplored fields, they were new fields, and the unknown was better than this. This sepia-toned world, this dull, boring land that held no adventure, no prospects, no hope.
Across the field there was another...
Not really that pretty
But lovely
Strong
flowing
She sat on the beach watching the last sunset
We were tense and sad but the sun did not care
When I remember will I think of the beautiful sun?
The beautiful you?
Not really that pretty
Striking, alive worthy of the perfect sunset
And so much more
This fallen world or the next on. It is hard to be entirely sure of anything; gravity, what to have for breakfast, whom one should marry - fuck
kill
We stick our heads out too far and we expose ourselves in ways we could not have guessed at the beginning when we were warm floating. We forget how to float when we learn how to swim and sometime soon we will learn how to drown - or let go.
This fallen world or the next one. The choice is just as banal as it sounds. But some nights it is...