Bright lights, flourescent, and windows with sunshine and white cielings and walls. Brightness.
She calls him love. "love," she says whispering on phones at work, "come see me." She begs. "Love come take me away," pleading.
Pretty with enough effort. pretty for once. pretty with her feminine legs made sexy with stilletos and lace trimmed skirts. "business attire" she calls it. In her mind it's dress up. Eyeliner, mascara, a little bit of lipstick. Pins here and there to keep herself composed.
And he doesn't even see. The only one that matters, he doesn't see.
"Love," she says whispering to phone lines, "Come see me." She's begging. Puppy, we'll call her. "Love, come take me away." i'm beautiful for you, she's thinking.
rows and rows of numbers, addition, subtraction, highlight what you've done. Debit, Credit, ingoing, outgoing. She assumes she'll be poor again with post-it's on her walls and windows to remind her of this life. A thousand bite sized notes to remind her of this life. Work by the hour, a whore for a dollar.
"please take me away," she's on her knees yearning. She's on the ground, tear stained, eyes shining. "please take me away."
They're talking signatures again. signatures and money orders and phone lines to set up. She doesn't know their game. doesn't want to. She'll close her eyes and only play dress up. She has no right to judge, don't worry, she won't. Closed eyes, not blind. Plugged ears, not deaf. She wants you to know that playing fair never wins. Being honest never pays. What an awful realization for the girl that wanted magic. What an awfu lthing to say for the beauty who's never lied.
"I need you, Love. I need you." She's not saying it anymore. Dreams buried, a cemetary of hearts where moss hangs from trees, toads can be heard, and the fog is always low to the ground.
What happened to her happily ever after. Where is her shining knight now. Where is the tower safe from the wolves. The witches.
She has begged and pleaded with you. She's waited and wanted. She's looked to you so many times. You, her love. You, her savior. She's looked and she's looked.
And now she's turned away.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Determination
Upon seeing black and white pictures of something i've never seen i'm fill with a weak sense of aching. A want.
I want to be surrounded by an old world and old fancies.
I want to be surrounded by an old world and old fancies.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
The horrible, terrible, very bad day.
Things I've Learned today:
1) Chai's might look tempting and taste relatively good but if you're slightly lactose intolerant and have to work all day rather than roll around in bed in utter twisting pain do not, i repeat, do NOT drink them.
2) PMS + work stress = bad times.
3) if you tell a boy you feel sick and are stressed out and then he gives you dead flowers to try and make you feel better don't tell him they're dead. but is it REALLY my fault that EVERY time he leaves them in his car, forgets and they DIE!?!?
4) don't volunteer to get everyone's food but not our own cause you're not eating at Sushi main. they're slow. retarded. and fuck up your order. and end up 12 dollars more poor.
4a) along those same lines, don't throw a partially sick inspired partly pms inspired partly stress inspired hissy fit about your order being wrong and not eat it. cause in half an hour when the hunger pains are hitting you'll think about food left in room temp. air for those 30 minutes cultivating unheard of amounts of bacteria and THEN you'll REALLY not want to eat it. and your ice tea will get warm. your soup will get cold. your legs will hurt from walking in high heels too often. your head hurt from lack of sleep. and the next thing you know there're tears in your eyes for who knows why!
5) don't wake up 20 minutes early and not brush your hair, get a jacket, or do your makeup just to get a hot chocolate. most likely they'll fuck it up and give you a chai instead.
6) don't expect to be a happy camper on period day 2.
7) try to keep money in the bank accounts
8) blah.
9) fucking ball licking dick sluts shit.
10) i hate the world. kill me now.
1) Chai's might look tempting and taste relatively good but if you're slightly lactose intolerant and have to work all day rather than roll around in bed in utter twisting pain do not, i repeat, do NOT drink them.
2) PMS + work stress = bad times.
3) if you tell a boy you feel sick and are stressed out and then he gives you dead flowers to try and make you feel better don't tell him they're dead. but is it REALLY my fault that EVERY time he leaves them in his car, forgets and they DIE!?!?
4) don't volunteer to get everyone's food but not our own cause you're not eating at Sushi main. they're slow. retarded. and fuck up your order. and end up 12 dollars more poor.
4a) along those same lines, don't throw a partially sick inspired partly pms inspired partly stress inspired hissy fit about your order being wrong and not eat it. cause in half an hour when the hunger pains are hitting you'll think about food left in room temp. air for those 30 minutes cultivating unheard of amounts of bacteria and THEN you'll REALLY not want to eat it. and your ice tea will get warm. your soup will get cold. your legs will hurt from walking in high heels too often. your head hurt from lack of sleep. and the next thing you know there're tears in your eyes for who knows why!
5) don't wake up 20 minutes early and not brush your hair, get a jacket, or do your makeup just to get a hot chocolate. most likely they'll fuck it up and give you a chai instead.
6) don't expect to be a happy camper on period day 2.
7) try to keep money in the bank accounts
8) blah.
9) fucking ball licking dick sluts shit.
10) i hate the world. kill me now.
Monday, July 04, 2005
Love, Sex, and Hate are Red
She's spent most of her life wishing she would look good in pink. She bought the right shirts, right shoes, she put her hair just so. Ribbons, gloss, that sort of thing.
Everyone wondered, behind her back of course, who did she think she was? She wasn't the same. She was different. And not different enough to make her special, mind you, but different enough that she could never be like them.
As a little girl these thigns went on, as an adolescent they continued, and as a teenager she tried even harder. It was a secret struggle, something inside her saying that she was different but she could still be the same. She could be that same bubblegum beauty of other girls. She didn't want different anymore.
A part of her, the part she was most ashamed of, wished she wasn't the way she was. She wished her hair were blond. Her skin fair. Her lips pink. Her eyes blue. She wanted it so much she grew almost bitter, "they are making me outcast" she thought.
She was wrong. She liked to tell herself it was only in her mind, that everyone could see the same sort of wonder in her as everyone else. She convinced herself that in everyone else's eyes, if she tried hard, walked right, made her breasts seem a little bigger, that she could look great in pink.
But now, now things are different. Realities must be faced. She is an adult. She can't hope for "cute" or "darling" or "sweet."
Only a thousand other words that only work well with red.
And i'll tell you, She looks stunning in red.
Everyone wondered, behind her back of course, who did she think she was? She wasn't the same. She was different. And not different enough to make her special, mind you, but different enough that she could never be like them.
As a little girl these thigns went on, as an adolescent they continued, and as a teenager she tried even harder. It was a secret struggle, something inside her saying that she was different but she could still be the same. She could be that same bubblegum beauty of other girls. She didn't want different anymore.
A part of her, the part she was most ashamed of, wished she wasn't the way she was. She wished her hair were blond. Her skin fair. Her lips pink. Her eyes blue. She wanted it so much she grew almost bitter, "they are making me outcast" she thought.
She was wrong. She liked to tell herself it was only in her mind, that everyone could see the same sort of wonder in her as everyone else. She convinced herself that in everyone else's eyes, if she tried hard, walked right, made her breasts seem a little bigger, that she could look great in pink.
But now, now things are different. Realities must be faced. She is an adult. She can't hope for "cute" or "darling" or "sweet."
Only a thousand other words that only work well with red.
And i'll tell you, She looks stunning in red.
