Status: Hiatus; story expantion, levelling chapter two and three. Two more updates forthcoming before January.
Rains
Tire Tantrums
Rains.
Rain destroys everything. The end of the storm, the raging waterfall that kills, is when the happy shines on us. Before, you get the frozen cold, the shining of leaves and cement that seems almost like the shining of dead eyes.
My eyes.
Underneath the ground, wherever my body is, those eyes are shining like the glass life has shattered, keeping the shards tucked neatly into the guts of those who lied each time they said they cared. They weeze, and gasp, and wish I hadn't noticed that determined wanting, wanting to be unfeeling. It'd not like I was a bad person, either. I tried to be as nice and kind as possible, but what can we do? Obviously I pissed someone off, or else I wouldn't be dead.
Glass, used as protection by the people, is streaming, getting cleaned and yet, as we all know, after this shower it will be covered in the shadows of the past. The shadow of the rain streaming down. And the people won't notice, won't care. Or at least, only a few of them will.
They will be thinking of life. They will be thinking of many things, appearing to stare out the window. But in reality, they are not staring out the window, they are instead focusing exactly on the shadows of the past. And staring at this window, at the rains, they are reminded of the glass tucked into their guts. They are reminded that I am staring at them from the car parked two inches away from the curb they are not focusing on.
---
I'm in heaven, yet I see these people that are alive all the time. I come across them all the time, and I used to think they were memories. But they age, so I think I'm watching over them in death. It's relaxing, knowing that although I cannot talk to them, I can watch over them and make sure those glass pieces stay lodged in them, and they stay alive.
The last thing I need is to blame myself on something like that when I meet them.
I'm in heaven.
All of my life, the most relaxing thing other than sleep was listening to my ipod while I was in the car. It was great to be driven around by someone and all you have to do is sit back and listen to music.
It's the best thing that could have happened to me.
At that point in my life, I was just about to break.
To crack in half, let all of those crystals out and in the open.
To let the rain wash over me and yet, burn me with its hideous cold.
To see the colours of my time dim, leaving just the bland lifelessness of washed, scrubbed till nothing that's 'dirty' can come back, no colour or even touch. Only the feeling of absolute dictation.
Rain destroys everything. The end of the storm, the raging waterfall that kills, is when the happy shines on us. Before, you get the frozen cold, the shining of leaves and cement that seems almost like the shining of dead eyes.
My eyes.
Underneath the ground, wherever my body is, those eyes are shining like the glass life has shattered, keeping the shards tucked neatly into the guts of those who lied each time they said they cared. They weeze, and gasp, and wish I hadn't noticed that determined wanting, wanting to be unfeeling. It'd not like I was a bad person, either. I tried to be as nice and kind as possible, but what can we do? Obviously I pissed someone off, or else I wouldn't be dead.
Glass, used as protection by the people, is streaming, getting cleaned and yet, as we all know, after this shower it will be covered in the shadows of the past. The shadow of the rain streaming down. And the people won't notice, won't care. Or at least, only a few of them will.
They will be thinking of life. They will be thinking of many things, appearing to stare out the window. But in reality, they are not staring out the window, they are instead focusing exactly on the shadows of the past. And staring at this window, at the rains, they are reminded of the glass tucked into their guts. They are reminded that I am staring at them from the car parked two inches away from the curb they are not focusing on.
---
I'm in heaven, yet I see these people that are alive all the time. I come across them all the time, and I used to think they were memories. But they age, so I think I'm watching over them in death. It's relaxing, knowing that although I cannot talk to them, I can watch over them and make sure those glass pieces stay lodged in them, and they stay alive.
The last thing I need is to blame myself on something like that when I meet them.
I'm in heaven.
All of my life, the most relaxing thing other than sleep was listening to my ipod while I was in the car. It was great to be driven around by someone and all you have to do is sit back and listen to music.
It's the best thing that could have happened to me.
At that point in my life, I was just about to break.
To crack in half, let all of those crystals out and in the open.
To let the rain wash over me and yet, burn me with its hideous cold.
To see the colours of my time dim, leaving just the bland lifelessness of washed, scrubbed till nothing that's 'dirty' can come back, no colour or even touch. Only the feeling of absolute dictation.
♠ ♠ ♠
Yeah.