cheap strand of pearls

pony tails on a horse, and peanutless peanut butter, everything made complete nonsense, until it gets repeated by someone else, anyone else and people say wow that's cool. Then just like when the stars align, the time is right. Everything seems so vivid and clear. What they don't know can't hurt them. What they can't know is the most important. I laugh when I hear it's being guarded. Like anybody would do that willingly. Without a helium filled ego, to float upon the clouds, and pretend that human emotions effect them, and feelings creep up without warning. It's only an act for where ever the stage. For the audience of know-it-alls.
A cheap strand of pearls breaks. The pearls hop and roll away from the string unbound.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

It's right there, like it's real, convincing you the effort isn't yours.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

I can remember caring

It's easy to forget the challenge.  The adversary shows signs of fatigue, unaware the battle continues.  Seeing a paper pass by with the breeze, the words "your sins are justified".  Have I been forgiven.  If I were able to care again, for a moment, I would want to remember that feeling.  I walked away because I couldn't sit still while I was being dissected.  Minced into trivial little pieces.  Consumed by all I hated.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

outcome

At a point in time when everything was going good, troubled by the certainty. Underneath the chaos, did I deserve better.


It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

a picture

Her unblinking eyes and static smile make her look permanently attentive, and disinterested at the same time.


It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

What's it like

to pretend to know. To pretend to not know. To pretend to want to know more. I can tell what it's like to watch people doing this, and so will everyone else.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

Last night I dreamed, in my dream I had a memory

The memory I was in a car with someone that gave me razzles.  In my dream I visited a man that was living in a house that was gutted.  He was cooking his dinner on the embers of one of the floor joist.  He invited me in.  He told me he wanted to show me something in another room.  When he passed through a distance doorway his silhouette changed, he didn't seem as friendly anymore.  When I woke, I thought of empty promises.  The times in life that ask me to suspend reason, to step into situations that will benefit another person, but not myself.  After all that is what good girls do.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96