Tastes Like Cotton Candy

Tastes Like Cotton Candy

We were all born equal. We had equal chances of screwing up and equal chances of miraculously “making it big” and all of us dreamed of making it big.

We were happy growing up and talking about the future in which we were all amazing writers and presidents of the world or “made a difference” or clichedly “made people cry when we died.”

And here we are. Some of you did have these amazing stories of falling in love and getting so much by taking chances. Some of you did turn pretty one summer and with the prettiness came the sense of humour and the will to live. Some of you ditched the dreams and yet kept the big circle of friends. Some of you worked hard and got what you’d always wanted while Fate grew silent and morose.

I grew quieter and quieter as the one big leap I’d made caused me to fall flat on my face. The dreams which once hung around me like a halo were now all I had. They moved inward and melted with the fabric of my heart. I couldn’t see or think about anything connected to it anymore- but I felt that feverish glow emitted by it. I’d say “If only” or “After I do something amazing” and I’d be one with the clouds.

Dreaming can be dangerous. I didn’t have a plan anymore. I just waited patiently- waiting for the blur to fade and for both the worlds I was a part of to unite. It didn’t.

Verbally, stringing words together became a difficult task. I’d forgotten how to say what I wanted to say. Sometimes, I didn’t think there were words that could describe what I felt most of the time. I listened to music and clung to the stories I wrote. I lost all the fair weather friends while the ones who had always mattered did stay. But now we hung out in twos instead of hanging out in packs.

I was the girl who stared at her shoes when she walked. I was the girl who stared at you so intensely but looked away when you’d turn to meet her eyes. I was the girl who wasn’t always like that and you probably knew that as I was the girl you grew up with.

I heard about how you fell in love for the first time. I heard about how she put up with all the rumours and bitchery and how everything made her stronger. I was the one who kept track of all of your stories and built it up in my head. Sometimes, I write about it.

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choppychoppychoppy.

I’ve been up since morning checking out the NaNo forums and this new poetry forum.

My goals before NaNo? To wrap up everything else I’ve started. Which means this and this. Unfortunately, HLWIT is just getting choppier and cheesier and FaC WANTS to be cliffhanger-y and won’t just end like it’s supposed to. I have only a few chapters to go for both. I NEED to finish it.

Speaking of.. after hearing about the great CreateSpace offer (free proof!!) I am wondering if I should write PPoS this NaNo because IF I win NaNo this year and IF I get to order the free proof and IF my parents tear open the package before I get it.. um, I’ll die of the weird-ness. PPoS contains a shooting, student-teacher relationships and more.  And my other stories are all horrible, fluffy romances.

I don’t think I was ever meant to write anything I could show to my parents, ever. :I Or anyone I know, really.