Raindrops of Thinking

--- by Blue  She thought she heard the neighbor's dog claw through her usually locked front door one morning. It was not that unusual if all things considered. She usually wakes up to the noise. Already she has dubbed it as her own personal alarm clock. That wasn't out of the ordinary.  What was not normal however was that she has no more supplies left on the fridge to make herself some breakfast. There was some butter in there, about a quarter out of a whole. There was water as well. A whole lot of them. ' That wouldn't be enough tho ,' she told herself. She tried living off of just tap water for a whole day once. It didn't end well.  She got up, more against her will, and scurried off to buy groceries. A basket in hand and her purse fitting tightly inside the pockets of her trusty skirt, she was off to fend away the dog at her door and quickly set off to market right after.  She was sure to leave her doors and windows locked before she truly left, however. She...

  if i am left to be stuck on the ground unless you take me, then take me as you will and never hesitate. i would not hesitate as well. it does not matter if misery is what you'd ask for in return for if i would not be able to fly, then that would be a form of misery in itself. it is torture. warn me not to go as far as the sun if you must. have me a taste of that burning hell if it is unavoidable. have me fall from high ground. give me all of that and more if it means you would let me fly with you and feel the freedom as i am up with clouds.  take me with you, wherever you might go. take me with you through the pain. take me so that i may not be frozen as time runs away from me. take me so that i may catch it. take me so that i can leave remnants of my being along the way.  take me!  ignore my tears!       ignore my pain! it does not matter.  disaster you might bring, if motivation be at its course, then nothing else would matter anymore.  _...

 — by Blue  I still remember the day my father took me hunting.  It was the middle of winter. We wore thick coats and big boots. I felt like I was a walking bear myself, waddling my way through the knee-deep snow into the woods. There was so much layer over my real skin that I felt like that coat from when I was seven years old was already a part of my own being. Like it would hurt if someone would take it away from me. Like being skinned alive.  My father had his rifle with him. Back then, I was sure it was that type of gun. Now I'm not so sure as I realized that a rifle was the only gun I knew as a kid. I was never one to get curious about firearms. But I was sure that whatever it was, my father still have a gun in his hands and that thing could kill. My father was out to murder someone.    We came home with a young deer behind his back. I was trailing behind him leaving my little footprints on the snow. He looked so big from the way I looked and stared a...

    stop. just stop. she wants to shout out loud. just stop with all the voices with all their grumbling and their murmurs. she hates it. she's tired. she's exhausted from the broken lines and the worn-out cassette on the drive. it's irritating. it pains her working head filled to its widening brim. all these repeating words she hears make thorns from roses through her ears appear. she bleeds. she drowns. she tries to swim but in this hell of noise she could not float and reach safe ground.  rush to save her, waters of music. flood her room, oh hours of peace. gently caress her, oh lulling angels. quiet down all the clouds of the storm that plagues.  they are evil. they smash their waves to kill. please be her savior. drown her till she's lost in your whole. find her, for pity it may be, but the truth lies in the reality that she could not find you anymore. 

  — by Blue I couldn't understand how, but I knew she was there. She was always at her spot, looking around at the faces of the people I was sure she knew.  But that girl never said a thing. She never tried to move. No standing or moving about to fix her business. There was a big problem to solve, a rather jarring misunderstanding that needed mending. Yet she ignored all of that and only stared at the things that I guess are already left behind.  Can't say that I blame her. It's not really her fault.  It's more like I pitied her. That, and I'm not sure what else to do.  I once asked my best friend who the person in the picture placed by his bedside was. It has always been there since I visited his apartment for the first time after a few years. We've been busy, me with college and him with his budding career. He doesn't know a thing about what happened in my life within that time frame. Likewise, I had no idea about his. So I asked wanting to fill that gap....