wide eyed and air headed: August 2005

the smiles we catch ourselves in are the most meaningful.
the subconscious ones you notice when you glance at your reflection in the train window.
the surprising ones. when the lectures have been boring and the tutes uninspiring, when your hair's bad and your outfit doesn't match.

and yet
you're happy.

sometimes those smiles are scary.
they betray you:
that uncontrollable grin
you fight to keep off your face.
you risk revealing something to others, sure.
but mainly
you risk
revealing something to yourself.

does the heart smile on the inside too?

stunning literature

once upon an hour there was a sad little teddy bear that couldn't speak. he could think though very fast and very smart. so he thought and thought hoping that if he thought hard enough his head would explode in a torrent of fast smart words and bits of fluff.
unfortunately the sad little teddy bear miscalculated the ratio of smart words to fluff, and the explosion was far less spectacular than he'd dreamed. the ragged giraffe sniggered at the tiny POOF noise the sad little teddy bear's head made when its smart and fast and fluffy contents escaped. no one even noticed the gems of thought hidden among the bits of sad little teddy bear brain--or, if they did, they mistook them for silvery sparkly flecks of glitter.

i think god is laughing at me playing with my mind tripping my feet messing up my hair smudging my glasses refilling my nail polish bottles letting my purple uni bag eat my phone delaying the trains stopping time speeding time up answering my prayers lavishing his goodness asking me to dance in the rain dance in my room dance on the way home compelling me to laugh as hard as bel when she cries requesting i sing to him or just to the birds making my cd skip a beat or two spilling the ink in my pens directing my hand across the page telling me to sleep more drink more water exercise my body opening my eyes de-cluttering my heart saying alix stop and
smell
the
roses