I'd rather say it all and fix the mess later,
Than hold my guts in and let the mess build up inside.

Is it ever remotely possible to end your life? Even if it has been so-called ended, it never would truly end until the last person forgets you, and then you're just left to the dirt. But then you're part of the dirt. Of the plants. Of the animals. Maybe someday you find a little bit of yourself becoming a little bit of someone else. And then you're still there, a million thoughts of your own in a million thoughts of someone else, whether you know it or not.

My soul, my eyes, my mirror, my camera

Some people say you can see someone's soul through their eyes.
Some people say that souls are kept inside mirrors; that's why it's bad luck to break them.
I've only ever seen my own soul through the reflection of my eyes in a mirror.
Some people refuse to have pictures taken of them because they believe their soul can be stolen that way.
If I take a picture of my eyes in a mirror, am I stealing my own soul? Or does it just make me have a two-fold soul?

Communicating With Batted Lashes

_____She gripped the newspaper page with straight fingers, as if it was supposed to be natural. Her pinkies locked, but she didn’t notice. She was trying to forget things beside this as they happened. Her eyes scanned the page, up, down, side to side, still trying to look natural. Natural was a lie, she knew it, but didn’t know that it showed. It’s hard for a nine year old to control their body language sometimes. Her fingers ached. Her eyes ached.

_____“No! No!” She could hear them sobbing and their voices crack as they tried to compose themselves. She didn’t need to try to compose herself. She’d been lying that she was composed this whole time, wasn’t she?

_____“You win.” Garfield said to Jon. She went back to the beginning of the comic line. What did Jon win?

_____She focused her eyes even more intently on every line across Garfield’s back, but focus didn’t help a thing when her mind could only imagine the entire newspaper being blank and made of clear plastic wrap. All it does is make what’s happening on the other side a little bit fuzzier for your mind. She could see them touching him; she could see them holding each others’ hands with tears in their eyes and red faces.

_____“You win.” Garfield said to Jon. She went back to the beginning of the comic line. What was it that Jon won?

_____She could see him. His head was tilted to the side, and he was shaking. He looked like he was choking. Mostly she could only see his wife, sitting at his side and laying her hand on his. She could almost see her silent praying as she stifled her cries.

_____But the girl could see him still. Above himself, his hand on his wife’s shoulder, smiling. He turned to walk out of the house, and looked at them. She was still staring at Garfield. She tried to ignore even him too. Why today? Why now? Stop, stop. What did Jon win?

_____He walked down the steps, to the left, and down the jagged sidewalk stones. He didn’t turn around to wave until he was out from under the tree, finally making noise as he crunched down the red gravel driveway.

_____"You win." What was it that Jon had won? She stroked the page with her thumbs until the ink was fading.

_____They were making telephone calls now. They still were sobbing. Their voices cracked still. The doorbell rang; they hugged people. They called more people. They got more phone calls.

_____She set the comic down with all of the normalcy that she could muster.

_____“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said to no one in particular. She snuck one glance at him as she passed on her way to the hall, and wished she hadn’t.

_____“I was there,” She said to her cousin. Her hands had less of a death grip on the dwindling ropes of the swing than they had on the newspaper that morning.

_____“I know, Mom and Dad told me,” Her cousin pushed her again. “I’m gonna miss him.”

_____“Yeah,” she kicked her legs forward. “Me too.”

Reflective Glass

There's every single person coming in and out of the picture frame, talking and laughing and singing and crying and whispering and yelling. And then there's you. And you just stay in that wooden picture frame, and smile and talk as quiet as a whisper.

Communicating With Batted Lashes

It was an everything room in a nothing second. Sun filtered through curtains as they would every other day, because it was just another day, after all. Why didn’t the sun cave in on itself, and why didn’t the sky crush them all?

All of the noises sounded like they were behind a wall, even though they were only behind a coffee table and a stack of Sunday newspapers.

No matter what anyone thought, it was just another day; a robbery of Time that no one outside of the orange walls and the phone line would care to know. Time stood on the doorstep with his pockets turned out before he shrugged and waved, walking away. The phone was constantly ringing. Two rings only, no more. The air was suffocating with medication and hot tears condensing on the glass figurines in the cabinets.

One child was sitting between the couch cushions, and hiding behind the paper reading Garfield. Had ever someone’s eyes been so intensely studying the Sunday comics? Every furrow and every crease in ink lines were so interesting now, instead of the turning fan that offered to drown it out, but stayed silent.

Eight were in the room, two of them the same person in two places. Five of them did not notice the moment.

And then the moment was over, and the child was swallowed into the couch to hide from an imploding sun and a crushing sky. It was so much easier to hide than to meet with others’ nonchalance on the swings later.

No Breathing and Phone Calls

_____There was a horrible nonchalance in everyone after that day. Pretending, just like everything else. Time had ended, standing still on the edge of the blinding lake with its hands clasped behind its back, pockets turned out. Dead fish jumped out of the water and couldn’t open their mouths enough to eat the flies that blackened the air.

_____The swing teetered back and forth of its own accord, as did everything these days. She only sat upon it and watched the flies tease the poor swimming skeletons. A stone sat seven minutes old, dim against the wretched lake. The lake made the air taste salty with its tears. Salt and the Sunday funnies wouldn’t remind her as they sit on the kitchen table. The stone wouldn’t make her think to cry for seven hours, then seven years. She pretended like the fish.

Sane Mistress

There's too many hours in the day when the she's gone away.
I'm stuck alone in my head.
What a horrible prison.

Pebble

The heavy well cover was blocking more and more light before she shouted, "I lied!"
The angel stopped and spoke in a near-whisper, "And now you can lie forever."

Now in 3-D

Red and blue was blurry. He stumbled over the tables as they wavered in his vision.
Another bottle smacked into the side of his head. She stood on the glass with her bare feet. "Life's all a ride, right?" She picked up a green bottle the size of her forearm and stroked dust off the label. "All in the name of fun, right?"

Doodle and Noodle Around the Clock

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, I got out a blank notebook from the basement. I tried to come up with inspiration for NaNoWriMo, but have decided I'll stick to the short and quick thoughts I post, until I get a really good idea for a novel that I can go off of without forcing myself, and by that time, who knows? Maybe it'll be NaNoWriMo again. But, alas, I just ended up with a notebook page full of random quotes from songs and random ideas with the occasional doodle. And I have stuck with it! It's a fantastic way of getting through a boring school day, and now that I have careers class, I'll find myself in need of something to survive boring more and more. If all goes as I suspect, I'll have this notebook filled by the end of the school year.

You'll be seeing many more of these.

Everything that I heard someone say or is a quote from a person or song is in quotation marks. Some drawings are of pictures on Tumblr, becuz I loveth Tumblr, some are just mine. The rest is mine! Enjoy the utter random thoughts I have...

And, also, I may repeat some of these thoughts in their own post, because I liked them so. Yea!

/Oddly sarcastic post.