La douleur exquise (The Exquisite Pain)

I didn’t know the length of my hair determined my capability of being the best human possible. I wish I knew people were watching… maybe then I would’ve changed my thought pattern.

I walked outside and smelled something very disturbing, the scent of maturity invaded my nostrils right then and there I knew that I wouldn’t fit in, three outfits a day and I still didn’t seem to drag anyone towards me. Looking at others who seemed more eyeball worthy than me and trying to become one of that kind only seemed to make my case worse. I stepped under the soaked umbrella and paid attention to every raindrop falling off the rims of the umbrella, I paid attention to how happy they seemed to be bouncing to the ground creating a puddle of slaughtered reality. I laid on the grass and watched the giant tree play a game of catch with the wind. What really caught my eyes were the leaves, the way they were dancing on each of their very own branches not worrying about their horrible, inevitable reality when fall hits, But letting the spring breeze be their omen. And that’s when it hit me I’m painting a picture in my mind that no canvas has the space embrace.