I always wrote ****-ee before, it made more sense with the context, you are stretching the rope, it is adding to your acceleration, you are, possibly, falling.
My darling friend, it is not the momentum of the rope I was warning you against. Although I wonder what metaphor that could take. No, I was warning you about the fall. Period.
Albiet I warned with an unconscious mind. For I was falling too. No, I did not jump. I shall not take that credit. (Not because I am above it, but because others who read here know I did not jump). But we both fell anyways. We fell for fictional men. We fell for fictional beasts. And we fell for boys.
Good luck to us both. May we never get used to the fall. May each jump feel more strongly than the first. May we never be that hurt that we are too scared to jump again.
Two equally (well, almost) inexperienced guiding each other through the bungee.
I told you over the phone
That you were as beautiful
As the stars that dotted the sky
But you lived in a big, bright city
And could only see a few dozen
While I could see thousands
You couldn't know the half of it
So I told you over the phone
That you were as beautiful
As the stars in your new lover's eyes
And you finally understood
"Normally, about 2,500 individual stars are visible to the human eye without using any special equipment. But because of light pollution, you actually see just 200 to 300 from today’s suburbs, and fewer than a dozen from a typical city." How sad is that?
Compliment people randomly,
There was always at least five feet between us. It was actually a good thing in the preliminary stage. We could lock eyes without the urgent need to look away too soon. The intensity was containable in those five feet.
(speaks very fast) And then my stupid self went around and quickly covered four of those five feet. It is the laws of mitotic cell division god ******. You do not grow four feet in a day. You grow inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter. Ask him about that literature assignment. Shakespeare is responsible for excess glutton in today’s pick up lines. Wait for your friends to dare him to kiss you on a Truth and Dare. Wait for him to want to. Then, tell him, maybe, I like you.
That, in that one foot perimeter, I could see golden flakes in the circles of his eyes when clearly they are brown should have been the first sign that it was a bad idea. Five feet was our perimeter. Five feet was where we stopped. (points to own body) Five feet is where I stop.
For, I will never be anyone else but me. I will never experience, firsthand at least, what it is like to be a lanky six footer who hunches because she doesn't know what to do with her body. Or her exhilaration when she finds the basketball court. I will never experience being the Egyptian boy who has a chemistry counter in his kitchen, who asks his maid to buy him potassium nitrate. I won't know what it is like to be his maid who almost got arrested for asking to buy potassium nitrate (a component of explosives) in Egypt. I shall never experience courting like the characters in a Jane Austen novel. And how nice it must feel, feeling beautiful.
And I will never ever experience, what it is like to be his girlfriend.
I have hair on my legs that I need to get rid of.
But before that I also need to fall in love.
In case someone in charge of prom is reading, please play Fred Astaire by San Cisco at prom. Would appreciate it a LOT.
This is the fifth dream I have dreamed with him in it. Been going on all week. I am not even thinking of him that much. The ****, just woke up. I was making a conscious effort not to think of him in the dream even.
In the dream, my Biology teacher also teaches us about a pollen mix called abocoptus. I googled abocoptus to see if the dream is a sign. It is not a real word thank god.
The pollen mix with nectar is actually called beebread.
— The End —