Once apon a time.....

So there is this girl.....

She wakes up. The sun is bright, its turning her skin hot. She rolls out of its way. The alarm is screeching at her. She listens to it beep until she starts pummelling her side table in search of the noise. In the fray the snooze is hit and she closes her eyes.

There are dreams that make it hard to breath. Reds play a part, oranges, violets, greens. And the screaming. There is always that.

She finally wakes up and rolls into childs pose, stretching her arms far in front of her. Its calming, and she wants to stay here and not move again.
She rolls out of bed and grabs the first piece of clothing she can find on the floor, throws it on, and walks down stairs, her feet and ankles swollen and painful for god knows what reason, and her head aching slightly from rolling out of bed like an idiot.

There is an ongoing sounds track in everyone's mind. The notes fit and there is always a melody, or a beat, to accompany your walking. Sometimes its a funeral dirge. Sometimes its a waltz.

She fills her tea cup with Oolong and Mate. The two mingling and dancing. She sucks the tea up through a Bombilla; drinking it fast even though its hot. She cleans out the cup, grabs her keys and drives.

We go through life. There is this ever present feeling of failure. Failure of what is a mystery, but we still feel it. Like we aren't doing everything we are capable of. The people who sense it more, tend to wear down easier, tend to crack.

She checks her phone 3 more times within the next 10 minutes. People don't check up on her generally, and she gives up checking up on people after they stop caring. She drives for an hour and looks at the damage. She tsks. She can't throw stones. Her arms have seen worse, but she is still in no mood for dramatics. She walks across the pier. There is talk to drowning. There is talk of swimming until you can't any more. But the graffiti is beautiful.

Our acquaintances dance by us like ghosts. The ones that try hard enough will gain some tangibility, but most float by, apathetic if the person they just touched is ready to throw themselves into an open man hole.

She gets a phone call for advice. She gets a phone call for help. She gets a phone call so the other end can rant. She waits for a phone call to say hey how are you, how are things, just wanted to say hi. She is going to turn her phone off.

So there is this girl, and she wants to wake up tomorrow without that feeling in the pit of her stomach.

There is this girl who is not the best of human beings.

There is this girl who sometimes wishes she could witness her own death, just to see who gives up the effort to come to the funeral.

Basic human instinct is to survive. There is this girl who is doing just that. Without anyones help.

There is this girl who is realizing she needs to give up on certain lost causes, and just survive, because the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thinks about them is going to eat her up inside.



Once upon a time there was a woman, who woke up one morning, grabbed some books, a small bag, got into her car, started it.......

and sat in the drive way screaming.