for ambitious_woman: is it wicked not to care
for the song drabble meme
Is it wicked not to care when they say that you're mistaken
Thinking hopes and lots of dreams that aren't there?
Is it wicked not to care when you've wasted many hours
Talking endlessly to anyone that's there?
I know the truth awaits me
But still I hesitate because of fear
Skipping tickets making rhymes
Is that all that you believe in?
Wearing rags to make you pretty by design
Rusting armour for effect
It's not fun to watch the rust grow
For it will all be over when you're dead
She's so meticulous in everything she does, even when she's attempting to be casual. Especially when she's attempting to be casual. There is so much care put into being carefree that it almost defeats the purpose. He tries not to notice. He fails. He can't help but admire her a bit for her airs and composure. He can't help but resent her for making him all too aware of the space he occupies and the blank spaces in between. Each breath and word and movement is measured and considered before presented to her audience. There is no such thing as nothingness in her world. Every moment of stillness and silence is intentional and contains one hundred million metaphrases that prove completely untranslatable in mere mortal language.
Her status is her religion and her sin is her rigidness.
He merely wants to live in the moment while she demands to know where and why and how and when. She must own the moment and shape it as she will by the sheer act of being herself. She was born and bred for this, and it is as much a part of her as the bone and sinew hiding underneath her skin. There are so many things hidden, and yet she's far too honest at times for his comfort. In her world there is a reason for everything and if reason can't be found it can be created with enough thought and analysis of all the details.
They occupy the same space but in different dimensions.
He's so careful not to care to the point where it never seems to work. He's too raw to reason things out quite yet. He doesn't have the patience or the grace yet to hold perfect posture. He doesn't want a reason because reasoning takes too long and leads to too many thoughts and regrets and resentments. He wants nothing more than to think about now and forget the way this moment leads to the next and the one after that. The future is too close and the past is too far away. It's terrifying and dizzying and planning makes it all that much more concrete. He can't stand the stillness or the silence, so it's impossible for him to give it meaning the way she does. He's too young to know how to properly speak without words or actions, he feels too old to appreciate the power in what isn't said. The only thing he finds in silence and inaction and planning is an unnamed brand of terror which forces him to break that nothingness whatever way is the easiest.
His religion is his freedom and his sin is his thoughtlessness.
She wants to know why. He wants to know why there has to be a why. He wants to know why it's so wrong not to care and not to think and just to exist for small cloudburst moments in time. Her tones are balanced and careful and measured and poised. Communication is a ballet for her, or perhaps it's a symphony. It is some kind of art form that requires skill and perception and training. His tones are jagged and raw and unchecked. Communication is a freeform exercise for him, where he can never quite predict the outcome before he starts.
There's a strange symmetry and craft in their motions and movement.
He tries to prove how much he doesn't care, but his sullenness and pettiness and petulance only proves he might care too much. There are too many possibilities if he let himself be rational and adult. He wonders if it might have been easier if they never knew each other in another life. He wonders if he'd want it to be easier. Every battle to prove how little he cares is lost before it's ever fought by the rules of logic. If he didn't care he could walk away. If he were capable of really not thinking for so long, than he wouldn't fight against her questions so much.
Yet they continue to insist and resist and fight against the other.
If he were honest enough to admit to caring, he might say he wouldn't want it any other way.