Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Fairytales
Life isn't fair. It's not some glamorous fairytale from some innocent storybook. Storybooks, which children are exposed to every single day, they are dangerous as hell. Why? Well probably because it shields them from the harsh reality that is life. Hence that clueless kid ends up completely naïve and believing in a dream, a dream that in true fact would never come to pass. Cinderella marries Prince Charming, who is a COMPLETE stranger to her (honestly, they only had one night together), but they supposedly ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. Fierce Dragon kidnaps Princess what's-her-name, but Knight/Prince-in-shining-armor slays the so called dangerous dragon with a mere prick of his sword, and rescues the princess, who must always be divinely beautiful, with a kind heart and soul.
It wraps children in a huge web of lies, and when the finally realize that these fairy tales don't exist, well it hurts. Relationship with said prince charming doesn't last; dragon kills knight/prince with a breath of flame. Harsh, but true. Storybooks are a jaded adult's idea of a joke, to build up a child's hopes only to have them coming crashing down as soon as they take a step into the real world, where dreams are stepped on, where hopes are crushed.
My life is not close to being a fairytale. Believe me. As much as it resembles one of those soap operas, and as days-of-our-lives-esque it gets, it's no fairytale. It's a sad sordid tale of someone caught between who she is and who she wants to be. Before I go off on that tangent, let's back-track. What is it that makes us want so much to believe in these fairytales? Time after time, being burnt by the flame, I still cling stubbornly to my ideals and the false hope that one day; maybe just maybe I might find my knight-in-a-shining-Versace-suit. I guess its stupid and I should shake myself and tell myself to come to terms with reality but it's one of the only things that keep me going.
Maybe a fairytale is but a wish, a dream for a better day. I guess I'll hold onto mine and hopefully it may come to pass.
***
Shuttup inner hopeless romantic
Monday, May 29, 2006
These cryptic posts with meaning entwined in beautiful lines; meaning you will never understand. It's all about hopeless eyes and crooked smiles. This plethora of emotions has completely overwhelmed me and left me affected in more ways than I care to admit. You shut your eyes so they don't burn with unshed tears, and yet a tear escapes tightly clenched eyelids, tracing a path down your cheek. Catch that tear drop, for it is all you can afford, a moment of truth before you're encapsulated in your mask again. Good bye you.
I realize what an escapist I am and it's not healthy to the least. Avoidance won't help, but if I make believe maybe it will? Lead me to insanity with a smile on my face. Think happy thoughts. The deadly glint of metal reflected in your eyes, eyes which lose their fire as you lose your nerve; toss it away - the clink of cold metal against tile a marked end of the ordeal, there is no escaping the mask.
Hot pumping blood, throbbing veins, warmth gushing from open wounds as the pain seeps away. Escapist? Stupid? Fucked up? Yes to all of the above. Kiss away my tears and hold me while I cry, but you won't, would you? Whisper that it would all be alright. Make believe. Let's pretend.
Lose control. Relinquish your hold. Stifled breath, break free.
Gods I am making absolutely no sense at all. Must be one of those abstract moods I get into when I think too much. Which I plead guilty for by the way, if there is such a thing as thinking too much, that is. Is there? I wonder. Has anyone ever thought themselves to death? Whatever I am spouting nonsense again. I think I wonder too much. And its all your fault. But i guess its a good thing? Well i wouldn't know. I wouldn't have it any other way
Well I’m off.
***
You're exactly where you're supposed to be
8:29 PM
My blogger's fucked up. ):
