"That was a long time ago."
I awoke completely clear - sounding much more positive than it in fact was. The small girl, innocent and smelling like a baby's bath, uttered quietly, "Tell me a story about a tiger and a monkey." I recited to her the only one I know. If you're reading this, just know tonight I took a little bit less of the blame. Because the story had recently been told to me; a dashing star embodying both elegance and sex appeal, radiant and seemingly flawless. A clown, a mere jester, get-up and all. In the jungle I spoke, "The tiger and the monkey balanced each other to a perfect equilibrium." In the real world, the clown remains a cheap, trite jokester, knowingly so. And the poised and polished beauty never so much as faltering in the slightest, aware of the heightened pedestal, she is so deserving of. Tonight I believed in numerous lives, reincarnation, reason being I ruined myself, fairly irreversibly, I am worthy of a real second chance. The planned message tonight was, "Whatever it is you think of me and what ideas you have, I've been thinking a lot tonight and wanted to assure you that they are not true." (You wouldn't have been able to abandon someone like this, left for dead, all over again.)
Tonight gave into every emotional temptation.
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