Status: This is a one-shot story for now, but I definitely plan to build on it. Stick around for more c:
Weightless
Weightless
"Maybe it's not my weekend, but it's gonna be my year. And I'm so sick of watching as the minutes pass and I go nowhere."
She paused her music as she stood up and walked down the hall. Today was going to be a special day. There was no reasoning behind this logic. The only thought in her mind was, I'm going to make today count. And as she stepped into her bedroom, that's exactly what she started doing.
Step One: Blast some music. And that's what she did. Her iPod on the dock, she was lost in the music. Dancing came natural and the melody flowed from her lips. Today is a special day, she whispered between verses, between choruses. Her body was swaying so gentle, as though the wind coming in from her open window was gliding her around.
Step Two: Pick up a pencil. She grabbed the closest pencil to her, a nice Christmas-decorated pencil left on her nightstand. Scrambling through all of her drawers, she found an old sketchbook. One that had been tossed away, forgotten about. But as she flipped through the pages, memories flooded back, and it was as though the sketchbook had never been sat down in the first place. With lead to paper, she began to draw. She was drawing everything that had filled up her mind, exploding onto this sheet, and she was laughing for the first time in a long time.
Step Three: Write everything out. Through her pencil, under her drawings, captions filled up the page. The captions were quotes she had heard, broken lines of poetry, thoughts of her own. She wasn't just creating art. No, what she was doing was releasing herself. Letting her subconscious thoughts work their way out through her hands, setting her free. And she smiled, and it was the most genuine smile anyone could ever create. She was happy.
Step Four: Show it off. She hung her creation on the walls, and it stuck out from all the posters. Today is going to be a special day, she kept whispering all the while. It stuck out from all the other pieces she had created. Everything else had been traced, half-assed efforts at trying to be artsy. Photography that meant to be deep but fell just a little flat. No, this piece of art held genuine emotion. Something beautiful, something painful, something perfect. Perfect in her eyes and her eyes only.
And as that thought passed through her mind, she didn't seem to mind one bit. Because it was for her, and she had made herself happy, and that's all that mattered.
And in that one moment, the girl felt amazing. She had made the day count. She had made something special, something beautiful. She closed her eyes to rest and smiled once more. And tomorrow, she thought, will be just as special. I can feel it. And with that thought, she drifed into a peaceful sleep.
She paused her music as she stood up and walked down the hall. Today was going to be a special day. There was no reasoning behind this logic. The only thought in her mind was, I'm going to make today count. And as she stepped into her bedroom, that's exactly what she started doing.
Step One: Blast some music. And that's what she did. Her iPod on the dock, she was lost in the music. Dancing came natural and the melody flowed from her lips. Today is a special day, she whispered between verses, between choruses. Her body was swaying so gentle, as though the wind coming in from her open window was gliding her around.
Step Two: Pick up a pencil. She grabbed the closest pencil to her, a nice Christmas-decorated pencil left on her nightstand. Scrambling through all of her drawers, she found an old sketchbook. One that had been tossed away, forgotten about. But as she flipped through the pages, memories flooded back, and it was as though the sketchbook had never been sat down in the first place. With lead to paper, she began to draw. She was drawing everything that had filled up her mind, exploding onto this sheet, and she was laughing for the first time in a long time.
Step Three: Write everything out. Through her pencil, under her drawings, captions filled up the page. The captions were quotes she had heard, broken lines of poetry, thoughts of her own. She wasn't just creating art. No, what she was doing was releasing herself. Letting her subconscious thoughts work their way out through her hands, setting her free. And she smiled, and it was the most genuine smile anyone could ever create. She was happy.
Step Four: Show it off. She hung her creation on the walls, and it stuck out from all the posters. Today is going to be a special day, she kept whispering all the while. It stuck out from all the other pieces she had created. Everything else had been traced, half-assed efforts at trying to be artsy. Photography that meant to be deep but fell just a little flat. No, this piece of art held genuine emotion. Something beautiful, something painful, something perfect. Perfect in her eyes and her eyes only.
And as that thought passed through her mind, she didn't seem to mind one bit. Because it was for her, and she had made herself happy, and that's all that mattered.
And in that one moment, the girl felt amazing. She had made the day count. She had made something special, something beautiful. She closed her eyes to rest and smiled once more. And tomorrow, she thought, will be just as special. I can feel it. And with that thought, she drifed into a peaceful sleep.