(no subject)
Glazed green eyes peered up through the cloud-cover in a half-hearted attempt to see what lay beyond it; the city lights made that mission difficult, as did the lack of any real motivation to do so, but she supposed it was some weird part of human nature to want to look to the stars. Not even the half-dozen beers she'd gone through out of sheer boredom with the night could curb that instinct.
The clouds were shifting restlessly on the wind, driving on like stock in front of warning dogs, herded beyond their own control. She wondered if they resented that existence, or if being held to the whims of whichever breeze shunted them along was merely part of their makeup. Then again, clouds probably didn't give a damn. They weren't sentient. They didn't have existential crises that woke them screaming at four o'clock in the morning like clockwork; they didn't stumble metaphorically under the weight of equally tangible-yet-not pressure from a world that was smaller ever day and a society that increased its closemindedness in pursuit of "freedom". They were mindless and therefore actually free.
A thin sliver of cloud peeled back like skin from a cracked cuticle, and through it she could finally make out the moon. Framed like that it looked like a mere splinter itself, hiding most of its face from the world selfishly - or was it just bashful tonight? Did the moon put through a phonecall - send a text message - telling the atmosphere that it wasn't feeling pretty enough today, so Could you kindly put a veil for me? Thx ilu! And so on and so forth.
The girl snorted at her foolish thoughts and popped another handful of M&Ms into her mouth. She really was crazy, just like the rest of the world claimed. The very fact that she was sitting up here well before dawn, freezing her ass off on the rooftop of her apartment building while attributing very human characteristics to wonderful but mundane spacial and atmospheric phenomena was proof enough of that. Somehow, though, she couldn't bring herself to care. These queer moments took her out of her own head and out into something bigger than herself, which could only be a good thing. There was too much in her that she didn't like, didn't agree with. These days it was getting harder and harder to try and rectify it; easier just to shunt it to one side and forget about, let something else overwhelm her instead.
There was moisture condensing on her cheek. Dew, she supposed. Maybe it was time to go inside, back to her cold bed and worried teddy-bear. Flip on some suitably depressing record and just...do her usual thing. Yeah, that sounded like a real blast.
The moon dipped in its eternal mournful dance with the sun; the sun shone weakly down on a girl alone on a rooftop, too far gone to know herself when she was crying and too numb to care. Idly it wondered if she could possibly understand its loneliness - an eternity spent chasing a lover it could never hold - then dismissed the thought.
After all, there was no point in ascribing one's own shape of sentience to something so fleeting that it was barely a conscious being at all.
The clouds were shifting restlessly on the wind, driving on like stock in front of warning dogs, herded beyond their own control. She wondered if they resented that existence, or if being held to the whims of whichever breeze shunted them along was merely part of their makeup. Then again, clouds probably didn't give a damn. They weren't sentient. They didn't have existential crises that woke them screaming at four o'clock in the morning like clockwork; they didn't stumble metaphorically under the weight of equally tangible-yet-not pressure from a world that was smaller ever day and a society that increased its closemindedness in pursuit of "freedom". They were mindless and therefore actually free.
A thin sliver of cloud peeled back like skin from a cracked cuticle, and through it she could finally make out the moon. Framed like that it looked like a mere splinter itself, hiding most of its face from the world selfishly - or was it just bashful tonight? Did the moon put through a phonecall - send a text message - telling the atmosphere that it wasn't feeling pretty enough today, so Could you kindly put a veil for me? Thx ilu! And so on and so forth.
The girl snorted at her foolish thoughts and popped another handful of M&Ms into her mouth. She really was crazy, just like the rest of the world claimed. The very fact that she was sitting up here well before dawn, freezing her ass off on the rooftop of her apartment building while attributing very human characteristics to wonderful but mundane spacial and atmospheric phenomena was proof enough of that. Somehow, though, she couldn't bring herself to care. These queer moments took her out of her own head and out into something bigger than herself, which could only be a good thing. There was too much in her that she didn't like, didn't agree with. These days it was getting harder and harder to try and rectify it; easier just to shunt it to one side and forget about, let something else overwhelm her instead.
There was moisture condensing on her cheek. Dew, she supposed. Maybe it was time to go inside, back to her cold bed and worried teddy-bear. Flip on some suitably depressing record and just...do her usual thing. Yeah, that sounded like a real blast.
The moon dipped in its eternal mournful dance with the sun; the sun shone weakly down on a girl alone on a rooftop, too far gone to know herself when she was crying and too numb to care. Idly it wondered if she could possibly understand its loneliness - an eternity spent chasing a lover it could never hold - then dismissed the thought.
After all, there was no point in ascribing one's own shape of sentience to something so fleeting that it was barely a conscious being at all.