UntitledI only came to university because there was nowhere else to go.I dutifully fulfilled my high school career with a moderate honours, moderate grades.Nowhere near the high expectations.But in my mind, I thought I would try harder.When I walked out each morning, I would look up at the sky. For each month in the fall, it was a startlingly saturated blue.Exactly the sort of colour that remained crisp in my mind. I always wanted to live in a surrealistic world where with that blue sky above me was within reach. Where I could push against its glassy surface as I pleased. Where, upon times of frustration, I could break it to make my breaths
chocolate rabbits"They're broken. Are you-"They're fine. It's for me, anyway.They were 5 for $5. It wasn't exactly the best deal, considering all the perfect ones were sold out.Only the broken ones remained, pushed far behind the shelf. Where, of course, they were overshadowed by the larger sets, even in gleaming boxes.They didn't mean to be broken. They weren't created to sit broken, eventually cast away into storage again until expiration. Until their chemical makeup deteriorated and, again, they were forgotten and cast away.It was how others, perhaps for fun or from curiosity, held them too strongly. How, because they simply could, they did.T
questioning of innocenceif innocence is a thing envisioned by adultsand perhaps locked to children as a possessive traitsuch that they have it /are born with /are granted/etc. to give reason to childish behaviourif the loss ofis considered a tragedyto explain unhappiness /sorrow? /loss / lack ofto give reason to the gray coloured hearts heldif the rare maturation of flowerwas a kept thing that bore fruit of innocencethen what does that fruit blossom to?eaten by those who are the loss ofor accepted by those who have the traithave You considered yourselfas a loss ofa trait locked ontoor are you that rare flower / fruit?
ExistenceNothing reallyin this dream-point distancethis floating existencepointin timeno bindingboundaryTIMESomewherebeyond horizon reacheswhere nothing like wordswordsthoughtformationcalculation-analyticsonly feelings and emotions and flowing warmth coolness swirlssomething lostHeldin a crackling electronic spherefloating, repeating, resisting, drawing to each other,and binding, connectivityin hands, where it belongs, firmly,floating without realistic sensein vitroexistence:the meaning ofthe point ofthe state oflife? living? breath?...heart? or soul.puzzles breaking forming pieces gathering
Sta.sh
