While she was going on and on and on and onnnnn I suddenly had this strong visual fantasy of the boy in a gladiator outfit throwing out energy balls and going, "Run, Faith, runnnn! I'll cover you! Just go!" Ah, what a laugh, what a scream.
Reality is a dull and constant ache. Pa dum pa dum pa dum. Your heart bleeds it out into your veins, your lungs fill you with it and exhales it out to get more of it fast right now this instant! because it knows how quickly it sours. Reality is too complex; even the word 'complex' is too simple a word to fully encapsulate it. And even at this age, I can't seem to handle it. Can't quite seem to contain it before it bites me, fills my soul with its immense weight and sinks me all the way down and leaves my feet rooted to the ground. I think they call this 'gravity'- they actually celebrate its discovery, like it is supposed to be a good thing, when I clearly recall that I was meant to fly, that I was meant to fly to somewhere else, that I was meant to fly to somewhere else more quiet and safe and gentle where the voices don't go on and on and on on on ononono. (Did I mean to type a string of 'on's or did I mean to type a string of 'no's? I can't quite remember.) Until you just want to roll your eyeballs inside your head so that the darkness comforts you and brings you peace and you can no longer see the ugly mouth crammed with ugly teeth moving incessantly. The same mouth that kissed me, that taught me how to speak.
I just... I clearly recall that I was meant... to be... somewhere else... somewhere else more... I can't quite remember anymore.