snow

Fragments of memory: grains of conciousness
Flakes of snow swirled through
the darkened layer of sky, and
came towards me as a breeze of
night,

It was the first snowfall of the year
So, it's official: autumn is over.
It is a strange thing, even at the age of nineteen,
the age of which the body starts to disintegrate,
and slowly fall into decay - it still strikes meas magical.

I stood entranced and delighted at each flake to
land on my face and melt into a watery kiss,
shaped and delivered as a
tear,

My mother and father wanted to watch
"50 years of Eurovision Song Contests"
as if that is something to celebrate,
as oppsosed to repress and deny -
while I wanted to watch
"Eternal sunshine, of the spotless mind"

*

Today: the day after the first snowfall:
{Random Thoughts}

I was applying mascara
making my lashes spidery
and exsistent,
when I contemplated on
the prospect and meaning
of good-dark and evil-dark,
and wondered whether vampires
are considered evil by the
teachings of wicca and
nocturnal witchcraft.

There is a little snow left
on the ground outside.

The lip gloss is sticky
it reminds me of a poem
by Viggo Mortensen.

Last night I couldn't sleep again, my back hurt too much
I've even got the shadowy puffy eyes to prove it,
mascara or no.

*

Despite that one of my favorite monaboyd fics
is really just about sand - and the coplexity of it,
the many colours to be found in it - I still agree
with Joel when he says that sand is overrated.
That it is just tiny little rocks. It is. And I don't like it much.

But is snow overrated then as well? Because I like snow better.
It's cold and before it hits the ground and is stomped around,
it's clean and perfect. Like tiny fluffy cristals, swirling through
the air, dropped from the sky.

Although, that each and every snowflake should be unique,
that there isn't two that is exactly identical, that's just RIDICULOUS -
How would you know? Who'se gone around the earth and checked?
Stupid. But I like snow. Up 'til January I'll like snow. Then I'll start to hate it,
but that's just tradition. I don't mean anything by it...

Might go out and play with my best friend later - oh wait.
I've passed the age barrier of nineteen, I am no longer entitled
to the magic of childhood, but fuckit. Who want to be adult anyway?

I'm a puffy-eyed goth child - with cerise lip gloss.
and daddy's cooking me breakfast - at 4.04 pm.