nekare

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MYSELF!!

I'm turning 18 today. That means that as of now, I'm officially a responsible adult. Do I feel like one? Like hell I do. But I'm legal now, and the world is bright and shiny and amazing. I'll be possibly having tacos for breakfast, in my favorite tianguis; italian class, possibly meeting a friend, argentinian food for lunch AND! I'm watching GoF today with my cousins. I'm so excited about it!!

And since this is such an important ocasion, I'll be sharing a weird pseudo-poem I wrote a while ago, but still love dearly. Feedback will be loved.

I got drunk with life today.

I ran across the streets breathing in the amazement of being alive, drops of rain falling lightly on my hair and daunting gray-sweet sky as a background. And suddenly I was intoxicated with the colors, and smells, and sounds and textures and the threads that join all living beings; and I could no longer think if I found it sweet, sour, bitter or a delicious mixture of the three.

People stared at my big smile as I danced in the hallways of a convenient store, twirling, twirling, twirling; amidst soup cans and cheap detergent in a sensation overload; fingertips sending messages of touch and smoothness and roughness to my jumbled brain. Arms outstretched, the word becoming blurred spots of nothingness and everything as I spun in circles, the ceiling becoming my floor and am I flying?

Funny looks followed me as I jumped and laughed, laughed, laughed; but I could only pity their gray-dead lives – existences?

I was drunk-high on music, rock and guitars and bass making my blood boil a deep crimson. Lyrics spurted form my lips, half-truths and clichés coming to life in an off-key voice; tinted pink with bright eyes and dazzling smiles and pink as the ballerina shoes I imagined I had on.

I painted my lips, chocolate color as my favorite treat and a touch of bleeding orange, and looked at myself in the mirror and blew kisses at the rain smelling wind, just because. In response the wind played with my hair and caressed my skin both playful and cold, numbness in my face with a smile still sketched in place.

And the music was so loud in my head, and I could do nothing but to sing, sing, sing at the top of my lungs; changing the radio station and looking for more; always for more.

‘Cause fuck it, but I need nothing else.

I got drunk with life today.