(no subject)
I used to have really big feelings. Feelings like a hot air balloon. A crumpled lifeless form that swells up with radiant throbbing life, that expands and expands and expands until it's a bright flurry of colour that fills you up to the brim. I am not writing about an orgasm.
Now my feelings are smaller, less over-bearing. They are still significant. I don't mull over them constantly anymore. They are absent-minded chewing gum ( me being absent minded, not the gum), sticky and gummy and a sharp sweet taste that dulls to a smooth gentle flavour.
I don't know if I miss my big feelings; even though they crashed obnoxiously through my life like cymbals, they were spicy and passionate. My small feelings are not so naggy. They are like warm cookies that have been out of the oven for six and a half minutes. They don't burn my tongue and the chocolate is still melty. But I think I'm getting fat.
Now my feelings are smaller, less over-bearing. They are still significant. I don't mull over them constantly anymore. They are absent-minded chewing gum ( me being absent minded, not the gum), sticky and gummy and a sharp sweet taste that dulls to a smooth gentle flavour.
I don't know if I miss my big feelings; even though they crashed obnoxiously through my life like cymbals, they were spicy and passionate. My small feelings are not so naggy. They are like warm cookies that have been out of the oven for six and a half minutes. They don't burn my tongue and the chocolate is still melty. But I think I'm getting fat.