a letter.
dear god,
why do you always allow me to get things planted in my head and start acting weird and start pushing them away. this is one you can't do that to. can you just help me snap out of it or come up with a more constructive way to show when i'm mad or upset? i mean that'd help a lot.
i dont want anything as badly as i want this. don't let me be the catalyst.
sincerely, erin jean waters the first.
i wrote this a while ago. i think it's melodramatic but i'm very obsessed w/stars, SO...
**my obsession is confirmed and strengthened each time i look up. regardless of whether or not i'm greeted and awestruck by that infinite patchwork of lights, i see what is undoubtedly the most humbling spectacle available. once darkness falls, my inspiration flows like endless yards of dark velvet that seve as a smooth, yet stark background to this natural show of stationary fireworks. words strung along like endless linked constellations and galaxies and those minute little pinpricks:those pixels we call stars, pile together in combinations and locations as infinite as their muses. even on those dark nights devoid of their flickering guidance, i can practically feel them. once you stand beneath them, once you are stripped down in your sheer lack of size -and seemingly- importance in the grand light show we call a universe, not even their absence from your sight can remove them from the inside. their patterns are inscribed on my bones. their gentle flickering is an infinite colony of fireflies burned on my retinas. each time the black carpet is rolled out for them they march across it like a procession of paparazzi comeras: flashbulbs silently popping. all those pseudo snapshots should make me feel priveliged, a feeling thatmust be reciprocated by millions, but i don't. because they're the stars.
why do you always allow me to get things planted in my head and start acting weird and start pushing them away. this is one you can't do that to. can you just help me snap out of it or come up with a more constructive way to show when i'm mad or upset? i mean that'd help a lot.
i dont want anything as badly as i want this. don't let me be the catalyst.
sincerely, erin jean waters the first.
i wrote this a while ago. i think it's melodramatic but i'm very obsessed w/stars, SO...
**my obsession is confirmed and strengthened each time i look up. regardless of whether or not i'm greeted and awestruck by that infinite patchwork of lights, i see what is undoubtedly the most humbling spectacle available. once darkness falls, my inspiration flows like endless yards of dark velvet that seve as a smooth, yet stark background to this natural show of stationary fireworks. words strung along like endless linked constellations and galaxies and those minute little pinpricks:those pixels we call stars, pile together in combinations and locations as infinite as their muses. even on those dark nights devoid of their flickering guidance, i can practically feel them. once you stand beneath them, once you are stripped down in your sheer lack of size -and seemingly- importance in the grand light show we call a universe, not even their absence from your sight can remove them from the inside. their patterns are inscribed on my bones. their gentle flickering is an infinite colony of fireflies burned on my retinas. each time the black carpet is rolled out for them they march across it like a procession of paparazzi comeras: flashbulbs silently popping. all those pseudo snapshots should make me feel priveliged, a feeling thatmust be reciprocated by millions, but i don't. because they're the stars.