The mixture was white, grey, red, and black; she had been staring it down for quite sometime. She knew there were letters within the shapes... Somehow it was a message to her, or a label of some sort. But she just couldn't tell. It was as if the girl was staring at the object with permanently crossed eyes. The curlies and swirlies of the white trimmed in grey and placed ontop of the red caught her attention quite nicely though. Maybe because it was the only thing to capture her attention at the moment anyhow. She knew that that didn't seem too great, but what else could she do? There was a square shape next to the asymmetrical object with curly lettering, but what was that? Her eyes focused on the square, and only to have it begin to blurr, and become asymmetrical just like the other object. The girl tilted her head, and for once she didn't have to push oily hair from her eyes. Not that that would've mattered at the moment anyhow; no matter what she couldn't properly see.
One little spurt of will power and the girl thought she had rolled over. Really, she wasn't sure. A slight harshness on her hip clued to her that she had fallen instead. No worries; she didn't bruise easily anyway. What she assumed to be the floor was cold but comforting all at the same time. Well, almost comforting. She didn't really want to be warm at the moment... Cold always made her feel more alive, and that's exactly what she needed. So, yes: comforting. Pressure pushed down onto the balloon attached to her neck, and she found she couldn't fight back so instead accepted it. The cold floor felt comforting against her cheek and temple too. The same pressue pushed onto her lids, and once again she couldn't fight back so simply accepted it. The darkness felt comforting too. More pressure pressed onto her lungs, and she'd never be able to fight back so easily she accepted it. Her raspy breath stopped, and a small smile tugged on the corner of her pale, cracked lips.
Lonliness washed over her. She just wanted to talk to someone. No... Listen to someone. The girl never really had liked speaking to anyone, but listening was another story. She could listen and listen for hours on end to any one person's voice. She'd give anything to curl up in to the different patterns and pitches of any voice at the moment; any voice was comforting for all voices were beautiful. Besides hers that was. She didn't necessarily like hearing her own... Maybe that's why she didn't like to talk? No... That wasn't the true answer. Talking sometimes took too much out of her, and sometimes it seemed so pointless. Listening on the otherhand could prove to be quite useful; plus, didn't everyone like to talk and be listened to? The girl considered there were two types of people in the world; the kind that needed to be listened to, and the kind that needed to be talked to. She thought the kind that needed to be talked to had more experiences than the other. It seemed backwards, she knew, but it still made sense when she looked at it. The ones who listen would be able to notice every little thing any one person had went through within a shorter amount of time than it took for the talker to go through it... They would pay attention to those experiences on purpose... And by doing this those type of people were learning more efficiently. The smile widened making her lips ooze a salty liquid while her frame shook in a silent giggle, which turned into a body racking laughter. When the listener had heard so much though, how would they be able to tell what they theirselves had went through? And how would they vent all of that build up?
- To Be Continued...
natasha.
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Love, Suicide, and Graves
Complicated words flowing from my eager little mind to my fingers which transfer weird little thoughts onto this computer screen... Enjoy.
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