clarity is a rainbow soap bubble.
it was dark outside, but i knew i had to walk back. he didn't come pick me up like he said he would. i was playing the beatles' octopus' garden on my mp3 player. and it was cold. so i remembered, i had a container of bubbles with a dagger sticker on it. i fumbled through my bag, and found it. i unscrewed the top off, and glared to see if the luxurious film was on the round hole. it was. i smiled a little, despite the coldness blowing through my hair, and down my scarf, into my back. i blew a bubble. or attempted to. it popped, and reminded me of the broken window on the skyscraper in new york. or that shiny glass pane on the mccabe wall. for some reason, i didn't try a second time. i didn't know what to do anymore. the glamorous soapy liquid was spilling over, because i had tilted my hand without realizing it. my hand...i couldn't feel my hand. so i started walking home, because he wasn't coming to pick me up. i tripped, and was scared for a moment that i was falling off a cliff. good thing there was soft, but wet, grass to break my fall. fall. wasn't long ago that i thought i had fallen. in true love. but, of course, that was as bullshit as anything is on this world. the rainforest looks pretty, but it's dangerous. you could die in one. all the mysteries, all the unspoken darkness. like love. the mysteries of the world, like the pyramid. how some couples can walk around so happily like a fairy tale, how slaves made the pyramids, so heavy. like love. i didn't understand love, like i didn't understand aliens. just foreign. so foreign, it doesn't belong in my world. and freud and his psychology insanity would say that i am a failure, a broken person, incapable of love, stuck on my childhood and hurt by the way my father left me. afraid of water, afraid of deep water. he left me because i wouldn't go scuba diving with him. he loved the water. i feared it. i wasn't his girl, like the water was not my world.
