(no subject)
The lights are dim, the air earie. She slides in through the doors, and at first, you're not sure why she's come. Her intent becomes more apparent when she passes you with no more than a mumble under her breath and a half-hearted smile saying she'll be drinking alone. And you stop to study her momentairily; with her new wave hair cut and her boots which match perfectly with her black dress pants. She's without expression--you can only assume the worst.
Now she's fidling with her wedding ring. Wearing it down with her other fingers, wearing off it's shine--it's importance. Her eyes are vacant, not wandering. Completley content with their current fill of nothingness. The only thing taking haven in them is a certain loss of hope. No optimism, no pessimism, simply detatchment from any feeling. No strong faith in her doom or success, only emptiness. But she has beautiful empty eyes. There is something that says there was once passion there, whether for love, success, hapiness--she was once living for something. And when you look at her, you suspect that the blood in her veins has stopped. Fresh out of the morticians office, make-up perfect, limbs controlled by some number of once inanimate objects thrown together in some logic to create movement. You couldn't even exaggerate and say that she's overtaken by pain, riddled with heartache-- because its so blatently obvious that she's become numb to it all.
We care so much about things that don't affect us. Things we should be completley detatched from. People we need nothing to do with. Things change. People grow. I'm not certain if I've grown for better or for worse, but I know I'm growing up. So much about me has changed in the past year. My ideals and values have bent, and that's a hard thing to admit-- that things are going down the tube. That everything that you've ever believed in, you'd begin to question.
But we're exposed to things, and I believe that until we experience both sides, not just listen to other people's opinions, we can't form our own. That's how you become closed minded. No one wants to be closed minded. You become insecure. Of course, you'll never admit that you are, you're just always trying to play yourself up-- because you're perfect. You know better than that, you know you're unexcusably flawed, but you will never admit it. Your facade of an ego can't take it. Life's funny in that way-- the people you think are the strongest are the first to cower at the sight of a stone.
Now she's fidling with her wedding ring. Wearing it down with her other fingers, wearing off it's shine--it's importance. Her eyes are vacant, not wandering. Completley content with their current fill of nothingness. The only thing taking haven in them is a certain loss of hope. No optimism, no pessimism, simply detatchment from any feeling. No strong faith in her doom or success, only emptiness. But she has beautiful empty eyes. There is something that says there was once passion there, whether for love, success, hapiness--she was once living for something. And when you look at her, you suspect that the blood in her veins has stopped. Fresh out of the morticians office, make-up perfect, limbs controlled by some number of once inanimate objects thrown together in some logic to create movement. You couldn't even exaggerate and say that she's overtaken by pain, riddled with heartache-- because its so blatently obvious that she's become numb to it all.
We care so much about things that don't affect us. Things we should be completley detatched from. People we need nothing to do with. Things change. People grow. I'm not certain if I've grown for better or for worse, but I know I'm growing up. So much about me has changed in the past year. My ideals and values have bent, and that's a hard thing to admit-- that things are going down the tube. That everything that you've ever believed in, you'd begin to question.
But we're exposed to things, and I believe that until we experience both sides, not just listen to other people's opinions, we can't form our own. That's how you become closed minded. No one wants to be closed minded. You become insecure. Of course, you'll never admit that you are, you're just always trying to play yourself up-- because you're perfect. You know better than that, you know you're unexcusably flawed, but you will never admit it. Your facade of an ego can't take it. Life's funny in that way-- the people you think are the strongest are the first to cower at the sight of a stone.