Mirror, Mirror On The Wall... Who Is The Most Foolish Of Them All?

You watch me as I sit in front of the mirror. Both of us are silent. I look into my make-up bag and randomly pull out a tube of lipstick. It is a bright coral that I loathe for three reasons: it is garish, you bought it for me and it makes me look pale.
I throw it against the mirror, hoping to break it. You sigh but remain silent as you watch me unravel. The lipstick slams into the mirror, then slides back down in front of me. It is mocking me. I want to cry but you are watching me.
So I pick it up and put it on. Still, you say nothing. I want to speak, but the coral lips remain silent. I stare at those lips that are mine but no longer belong to me. I desperately want to say something, anything but they remain painted shut.
You watch my face as I sit there hating my lips. You tell me I look pretty and ask me if I am ready to leave. I shake my head no. You get up and walk over to me. You bend down to kiss the top of my head, and tell me you will see me later. This time I watch you as you walk away from me.
This is the final time I will watch you walk away from me. I wipe off the coral stain and pack up my things. This time I will walk away from you.
No more coral for me. I'm switching to dusty rose.

Of Masks and Magic

I can hear the sounds of innocence and bliss in the air. Footsteps dashing from door to door, gleeful grins from angels and devils united on this night. All seeking the sweet innocent thrill brought on by, well, sweets.
Yes, a treat indeed. A treat for the little ghosts and ghouls and for the zombies.
On this night, they are in masks and costumes. On this night, I remove my mask and costume. No need to pretend that all is right in the world because for this one moment, those smiles are enough.
I envy them.
Even if I am an angel or a fairy tonight, the magic disappears as soon as the sun appears. They will remain little angels even when the costumes are taken off.
Meanwhile... I walk around feeling like, well, a zombie.
May I please be a fairytale princess just a little while longer?

Promise

Round and round the little circle spins...
I try to follow the quick chase.
One lap, then two, then fifty.
Still nothing.
Just like a ferris wheel, forever moving. But never going anywhere.
Doomed to repeat the motions... up, down, up, down.
Forever grounded to one spot.
I never liked the ferris wheel. It promises me the sky.
But I always end up on the ground.
Circles are eternal. The bond that never breaks.
The promise of forever.
The ring that binds two souls. The cuffs that bind a prisoner.
Still I watch the circle spinning. Still waiting for it to deliver its promise.
Loading, it tells me. So I sit tight.
Finally it stops.
Site not found, it screams at me. So I sigh.
Story of my life. Seems like life is forever loading.
Destination: site not found.

Thanks For Making Me Feel Bad

Dear Sunshine Of Mine,

You are amazing. I could not ask for a sweeter, kinder, more generous, loving friend than you. In comparison I look like a grumpy, miserable old hag. Bleurgh.

But you are so amazing and I love you lots and lots. Here's to many, many more years of friendship... I know you'll continue to be the sweet, kind, generous, loving person that you are through the good times and the bad times. And I will continue to be the grumpy, miserable old hag in comparison. But I don't mind because I love you to bits.

This is dedicated to all my friends who have been by my side through the good times, and especially through the bad times. Cheers!

What Dreams May Come

My name is Celeste. I live in a beautiful house. I cannot tell you which room is my favourite one as each room is exquisitely decorated. It took years to complete the house. Each piece of furniture was carefully chosen, every flower arranged perfectly.
Yes, it is a very beautiful house. I am very lucky.
I like the garden. There is a stone fountain and a pond and lots and lots of interesting sculptures. I enjoy sitting by the pond and sketching the sculptures. I would have liked to have some fish to sketch too but the only thing the pond holds is clear water. It is still a pretty pond, though.
Yes, it is a very pretty garden.
When it is cold outside, I sometimes play in the attic. There are so many boxes in the attic and each box holds a treasure. Sometimes I find old volumes of poetry, sometimes I find old toys. Once I even found a really old photo album. The photographs in it were so faded I could not recognize a single face. It is still fun to look, though.
Yes, it is fun to play in the big attic.
At nights I sit by my window seat, looking for stars. I like to read here too. It is one of my favourite things to do. I love to read about faraway places and fairy tales. I daydream a lot here too. I think of all those faraway places my books have told me about and I wish that I may someday see those places with my own eyes.
Yes, I do so love to daydream.
It is night now. It is time for me to lay down and close my eyes. When morning comes, once again I will be out in the garden, staring out at the world with unblinking eyes. All the while wishing for things that can never be.
What else can I do, trapped in this dollhouse?

Stop And Go

I'll start giving again, once you stop taking from me.

I'll start sleeping again, once you stop keeping me up at night.

I'll start smiling again, once you stop making me miserable.

I'll start talking again, once you stop pretending to care.

I can stop giving, stop sleeping, stop smiling, stop talking.

But what is really slowly seeping the life out of me...

is that I can't seem to stop loving you.

Farewell, Monkey

I told the monkey on my back, "My, you're getting heavy."

He bared his teeth at me and threw a banana in my face.

I tried to push him away. He really was weighing me down. Plus, I don't appreciate having fruit crushed on my face.

His expression changed from angry to deeply saddened with the blink of an eye.

I attempted to console him. "I know, monkey. I've carried you for so long and you are a part of me, but we must part."

He refused to look at me.

"When we met, I was still standing upright. Now the burden of keeping you for so long has caused me to stoop and hunch over. If this goes on, I'll be forced to crawl on my knees. Please understand."

He looked at me, eyes full of accusation and contempt.

I sighed. "You forced me to do this."

Uncertainty danced across his face.

I lit a match and lit him on fire. He was going down, one way or another.

He clung on tightly as the flames consumed him, so the flames would consume me too.

I merely smiled. The heat was melting years of icy numbness sealing my heart. When his screams finally burned away, I jumped into the lake.

Farewell, monkey.

I fell freely towards the bottom, eyes shut. When I felt the tug of life, once again calling to me, I resurfaced.

Farewell, guilt.

Hello, future.

Wanted: Map Or Directions. Thank you.

Ah, my heart. I spent most of last night and a good portion of today trying to figure out the this feeling. I'm not even sure how to describe it. It is sort of like being disconnected from... from what exactly? This place? The people?

Am I upset? Or sad? Or confused? Guilty? Perhaps all of that and more? Even as I write, I bite my lip and try to sort through the jumble. Trying to put everything in its place, where it belongs.

I think that may be partly it.

Place... belong...

The words are triggering something...

Tugging at some faint threads of... of what?

Loneliness? Homesickness?

Everything feels slightly off. Feels like I stepped onto the escalator and it's moving forward, but my feet aren't quite on the ground. And I'm not even trying to get them onto solid ground.

Ah, my heart. Where are you leading me this time?