hear the cries of thirsty children, this is our inheritance.

My Heart Journal
Current mood: thoughtful

I've lived most my life on rooftops, watching the world beyond mine. Swirling hues of thoughts and emotion color the sky above me. I sit and gaze in delight at the splendid display of vibrant yellows playing with soft pinks, darting behind fluffy white clouds. I watch vivid blues and purples discuss politics and religion, their trains of thought circling and calculating one another.

I'm suddenly distracted by three rainbow bubbles floating nearby. They happily toddle across the expanse before me, bumping into each other and creating one colossal lively bubble. I reach out my hand, longing to touch its child-like beauty and innocence. Fingers stretch in anticipation, my hungry eyes reflecting off the gigantic bubble. As soon as my fingertips graze the wet surface, the bubble bursts into thousands of tiny bubbles. I giggle as they surround me, tickling my skin. I watch with regret as the cheerful bubbles fade into the west to play with a particular cream-colored cloud. Bubbles love to play with wispy clouds, you know.

Out of the corner of my eye, an effervescent red emerges as a deeper cherry color follows in hot pursuit. They waltz and I longingly watch as the two reds match each other in perfect time, both deepening into crimson. Jealously washes over me. I feel it soaking through my clothes and cascading down my face, accompanying salty drops already wetting my cheeks.

Black storm clouds hover above and lightning strikes nearby, but I won't leave this rooftop. There's nothing for me down below, where the world lives in shades of gray. I can't return. I won't go back.

In desperation, I yell over the storm, beckoning any help who can hear me. A stream of silver from the east pierces the darkness, twirling around darkening clouds boiling over in anger. The silver stream examines me for a moment, and then asks if I really wish to leave. With all my heart, I say yes. A bright light envelopes my vision and penetrates my very being. The blinding light slowly fades and I suddenly notice I'm unburdened by the restraints of rooftops. Looking over my shoulder, I see my wings of silver, strongly pumping me into the sky above the storm below. With a grin on my face, I excitedly fly to wherever the setting sun guides me. I'm free at last, and I won't be going back to what I used to be.

I see through the cracks in your mask, little dolly. Don’t lie, we know what creature rests inside. And it’s tearing at me- just the look in your eyes. They’re screaming and I scream back. I won’t feel sympathy, because you are what I lack. It’s Sunday evening and you haven’t made a sound. The spotlight’s shining down as you twirl and twirl around. Without warning, your laughter rises to a ceiling that’s dripping, dropping- falling tears from the face of a goddess sobbing. For you, she cries and pities what pathetic fairytale you’re living. Bravo! Bravo! Relish in the splendor of a flawless performance with the flowers at your feet and the quickening of heartbeats. You’ve fooled them again into believing there’s no monster scratching behind your green-blue eyes. This time, there’s no running because I swear it- I won’t be following.

This didn't turn out the way I wanted it to...infact, now that I read it, I realize it sends an entirely different message than the one I was hoping to convey. I am still posting this rant, but know this isn't how I really feel right now. It's almost as if I wanted to build a house, but built a dollhouse instead...the issue presented is so much smaller and irrelevant compared to the one I'm really dealing with.

Behind the slight smile and the sunken eyes, truth awakens in secret places kept within the confines of a sleeping garden. Past the walls of climbing ivy and the hedge maze freshly trimmed, whispers of an intruder beckons her to hide herself. Concealed among the sunflowers, she watches him lightly walk in her direction. His admiration of her blossoming garden is evident in his eyes. Every kind of flower enchants him, but it’s the sunflowers that capture his attention. His grin evolves into a broad smile and he laughs as he smells the sweet fragrance of the sunflowers, glistening with fresh morning dew. For years, she feared this inevitable moment. It was the reason for the high walls surrounding the garden’s interior. In that moment, she knows she has the means to stop him from taking what she cherishes…but only watches in silent acceptance, remembering that eventually this must be done. The man takes a knife from his pocket and ever so carefully severs a sunflower from its roots, deeply entrenched in the rich soil. Watching in despair, a tear falls and drips off the edge of her jaw line. She doesn’t move as he cuts the sunflowers around her and he doesn’t stop when he discovers her among the towering flowers. He freezes when he comes to the last sunflower. Glancing at the girl with tears streaming down her face, he pauses. Without words but with his eyes, he tells her this had to happen sooner or later. He waits for a response but she just stares at him with saddened eyes, resigned to the fate she chose. The man leaves, with all the sun’s glory in his arms and a triumphant smile on his face. Watching him as he happily departs from her sanctuary, she notices the last sunflower. She knows pity is not the reason he left it, but as a reminder of the life she once had. And in acknowledged defeat, she rips the sunflower’s roots from the ground and destroys the last bit of golden light that once illuminated her garden. Breathless and tired, she bitterly whispers, “This is what’s supposed to happen, isn’t it?”

So I was going to meet up with my boyfriend and go to dinner and a movie. However, he called me and said he felt like crap and would take me out some other time. You see, I was REALLY excited about hanging out with him. It had been FOREVER since we had him and me time. But, like the good girlfriend I am, I didn't let on how disappointed I was. I knew I didn't want to stay home and do nothing so I called some friends but they were all busy. This didn't change my mind and I went to Starbucks by myself...I just wanted to be with normal people instead of the mutants I live with.

I sat down in a plush couch at Starbucks and was about to enjoy my Venti Almond Roca Latte, when my boyfriend walked in...I guess he was feeling well enough to take my best friend to coffee. When they saw me, her face had the guiltiest look while his eyes were frantically searching for available exits. But it was too late. I did what any logical girl would do- walked over and dumped my Venti latte on his head and on the front of her blouse. Smiling, I left them standing there in a strangely silent Starbucks. As I walked out, applause erupted from the building. It seemed those who watched the scene unfold thought my actions were justified and lended their support.

Once I had safely driven ten miles away and turned my music on the highest possible volume level, I screamed my guts out as my hands beat the steering wheel in their madness. After I had let my fury out in the confines of my car, I looked up to notice red and blue flashing lights in my rearview mirror. After pulling over and rolling down my window, the aged cop walked over and asked me to step out of my car and take a sobriety test. I was, according to him, the worst drunk driver he's ever seen in his thirty years of being a cop. He was a bit disappointed to find out I wasn't actually drunk and had let me go, the only punishment being a ticket that would take me months to pay off.

Numbness crept in as I drove home. I barely noticed when I drove over a bump. I would not of even stopped had I not heard a yelp as well. Getting out of my car, I saw the crime scene but was relieved to find I had only run over the neighbor’s dog. As I got back in my car I realized with a grin that running over Elmo was the best thing that had happened that day.

April Fools.

(my morbid sense of humor)

Tears drip...drop silently, each sliding down until perilously clinging to her jaw line. But thoughts don't recognize symptoms of a hurt ego, injured feelings entwined with rationality poisoned. Pure emotive is lacking, concealed by cutting words as painful as salt sinking into fresh wounds. Her eyes widen, ignorance tainted by experience, and then close shut. This can't be undone- delicate apologies upholstered in rich fabrics and white lace cannot pry her eyes open. Nothing can tempt her to drink in one's acknowledged mistakes. She curls in a ball; hands over ears, hoping insanity will overwhelm her to the point of no return. And with a smile, she embraces the cup once filled with desperation, now infecting her blue-black blood.