A s t a
'cause i thought i saw your soul
I have made it this far throughout my exploration of this stupid place.
As I moved deeper, I avoid certain areas - alters for the gods, filled with gifts and snacks. The individuals spouting gospel like it was meant to make their world seem easy to comprehend. Just in general the whole mess of bullshit, if you ask me. But, I'm biased against the idea of loving gods. What god loves me so much to make me live through lifetimes of pain and loneliness. But, I was curious. I hate being curious, it usually leads me to pain, to hurt. Curious if someone looks as nice as they seem - you make a friend that doesn't last into your next life. Curious if that stallion's hair is really as soft as it looks, three life time laters you'll wake up with the desire to run your muzzle through it, but not only does he not know you, he's married to another.
Yet, I've always wondered if I am a glutton for punishment.
So I approach the shop slowly, staring at the maiden who apparently can read the future with some sort of silly cards. She's with out a patron at the moment and I hover for a moment before I walk in. I've never thought to enter a place, why should I. Most are hacks, few could look at me and feel the age of my soul, could properly read what I've been through. What I've experienced. They just give the usual bullshit of 'love is around the corner' and 'you'll be rich and happy.' So as I stare with her in skepticism, it's not that I'm skeptic of the craft.
I am skeptical of her.
I enter with a slow swish of my hips, my shawl sitting just right on my shoulders, stupid gems and chains bouncing against my chest and face. You know how to use those, for real? I ask, uncertain now as I enter closer. I take a steadying breath, and suddenly, I feel as old as my soul, as if I've been dragging myself for years upon years (which in a way I had, I am one of the very first horses). I settle down across from her, Prove it. I challenge with out hesitation, my eyes locked onto her as if in a battle of wills, Prove your craft to me . . . I'm tired of always being disappointed. Not just from fools, but disappointed in life, disappointed in never dying, disappointed in never being allowed to have others remember me in another life. Never being able to forget the others in my next.
I hate how tired I've grown to become.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Nefertari
Notes:: Yessssss
As I moved deeper, I avoid certain areas - alters for the gods, filled with gifts and snacks. The individuals spouting gospel like it was meant to make their world seem easy to comprehend. Just in general the whole mess of bullshit, if you ask me. But, I'm biased against the idea of loving gods. What god loves me so much to make me live through lifetimes of pain and loneliness. But, I was curious. I hate being curious, it usually leads me to pain, to hurt. Curious if someone looks as nice as they seem - you make a friend that doesn't last into your next life. Curious if that stallion's hair is really as soft as it looks, three life time laters you'll wake up with the desire to run your muzzle through it, but not only does he not know you, he's married to another.
Yet, I've always wondered if I am a glutton for punishment.
So I approach the shop slowly, staring at the maiden who apparently can read the future with some sort of silly cards. She's with out a patron at the moment and I hover for a moment before I walk in. I've never thought to enter a place, why should I. Most are hacks, few could look at me and feel the age of my soul, could properly read what I've been through. What I've experienced. They just give the usual bullshit of 'love is around the corner' and 'you'll be rich and happy.' So as I stare with her in skepticism, it's not that I'm skeptic of the craft.
I am skeptical of her.
I enter with a slow swish of my hips, my shawl sitting just right on my shoulders, stupid gems and chains bouncing against my chest and face. You know how to use those, for real? I ask, uncertain now as I enter closer. I take a steadying breath, and suddenly, I feel as old as my soul, as if I've been dragging myself for years upon years (which in a way I had, I am one of the very first horses). I settle down across from her, Prove it. I challenge with out hesitation, my eyes locked onto her as if in a battle of wills, Prove your craft to me . . . I'm tired of always being disappointed. Not just from fools, but disappointed in life, disappointed in never dying, disappointed in never being allowed to have others remember me in another life. Never being able to forget the others in my next.
I hate how tired I've grown to become.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Nefertari
Notes:: Yessssss
shades of jade and emerald
