Sunako
you told yourself that it's not you, it's them
you're one of a kind and no one understands
I don't like it, I don't like it, I don't like it. This is weird, and foreign and to bright and open. All around me it's too bright of a world and I'm clinging to the shadows in a desperate attempt - a desperate plea for them to cloak me - wrap me in their suffocating arms and drown out the light of this too bright world before the radiant creatures burn me with their brilliance and destroy me: the ugly girl. I left the mountains, that was my first mistake, clearly I should have stayed, spending my day with the skelly-buddies instead of out, and about and forced to avoid all of the others around her. What do I do if someone tries to talk to me, if they approach, if they come towards me? Will they even bother? Why would they bother? I'm the scary girl, the ugly girl, the girl best left forgotten. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe . . . I will be okay?
I can't stop my hooves from walking though, as I make my way to this magical island I had heard whispers about - that changes with the seasons and was no in it's third appearance, but it was the appearance I wanted to see - it was this land that could take on a different design and this one meant to be something different in reds and purples and yellows, and I wanted to see nature in such a way that it might be something more unique, something as strange as me, perhaps it would be a new stage of darkness, a new stage of chaos . . . I wouldn't mind a new curtain to draw back to drape my imaginary world in, as I center myself into a stage of my own making where the universe (my version of it) can be limited to just one. A new setting, a call of scenery change. Yes, this island would be exotic, and different - and hopefully not filled with brilliance. Please, no brilliance.
My hooves hit the bridge that led to the odd, revolving island, and as my feet drag (just as much as wings did as they hung limply at my sides) the sound is reminds me of something being sharpened against a rock, like a killer planning a new murder and preparing their weapon. The thought leaves me giddy, more excited for what might be up ahead! Oh imagine, a murder being after me - like in a horror story, a nightmare tale - but this would be real life! Would I run away screaming, or would I eagerly embrace my murderer to be, thanking him for writing me into such a macabre tale. Would it be quick, or slow - painful or painless? Do others wonder how they might day? Or is it just me? Me and my scary mind? Scary girl.
I've heard all the terms for myself, those whispered behind my back in an attempt to keep me from hearing (I've heard them anyways) and the words spat in my face. I've long ago allowed myself to soak in the knowledge that I wasn't normal anymore. Too intrigued by what is considered dark, to caught up in a world with out light - in an attempt to keep from every having to see my ugly face. Ugly girl. Scary girl. Stay away from her girl. I didn't mind, I liked the being alone. And your day goes by so much easier when you no longer have to think or worry about what others say or expect of you. You don't have to primp yourself for hours on in (which was pointless, because you can't make an ugly mare pretty - so why should I bother anyways). You don't have to make sure you look good, you talk well, that you're ready for company. Any of it! It's just me, my skelly-buddies, the spiders and the snakes! What more could I ask for?
My hooves halt at the edge of the bridge as I take in the sea of grass before me. Purple as day old bruising, red as blood, yellow as pus. I start to giggle, the sound high and witchy - but I can't help it. What amazing grass! I rush in, diving beneath the strands as the grass sways around me, colors blending like a festering wound that was getting steadily worse, and my giggle increases in volume. How lovely, how wonderful these colors are! I stand tall, and can barely see over the grass line (thought the matted, tangled mass of forelock half obscures my gaze and I don't bother peering over the line for long). I duck my head low, and giggle once more, feeling like I'm hidden with in the woven lines of a horror novel, a monster waiting for the unsuspecting to jump up.
What else did this beautiful, dark island have to offer? In the back of my mind, I wonder if anyone else sees this terrain as I do - taking in the landscape and seeing the darker side of what these colors could symbolize, twisting what could be innocent hues into something dastardly. The thought doesn't last for long before I wave it away, and my walk continues, my wings creating grooves on either side of my hoof prints as they dragged along the ground, my tangled, matted mass of dark hair seeming to collect new twigs and pieces of broken grass waiting to be woven into the already dirty and defiled mess. I don't bother trying to keep it out of the way - I don't bother with appearance anyways. I see the first tree up ahead, and my hooves take off. The limbs are pale as bone, while the leaves seem to have exploded out from the branches, like the blood of the tree blooming forth. Each ruby leaf seemed to paint a starker and starker contrast against the pale bark, and my giggle returns. Festering wound hued grass, now bloodied bone trees? Who took one of my nightmares and gifted to to me with reality? I must thank them! They've out done themselves.
I practically dance between the trees, my wings now drawn up against my sides, feathers flaking off lazily from where they had been pulled free earlier by the dragging; and my tangled mass of hair seeming to twist around the branches and trunks as I move. Oh such beauty to be seen. I pass by some water, and catch a glimpse of violet - but move on before my reflection might catch my eye (I haven't seen it in years, no point in seeing it now)! Mountain ranges dotted the sky above, the water trailing down their razor formation like violet tears, and then I saw the first creature. I stare in wonder, in awe, in absolute rapture over the doe, ghostly in appearance, half formed like an artist had stopped half way through the creation process. My eyes move to other creatures created in a similar fashion, and their taunting laughter alights upon my ears. My grin turns almost predatory, stretched as far as my equine muzzle can allow as I stand and soak it all in, the way the dead seems to be taunting us in song, trailing through the island in broken forms and ghostly apparitions of decay.
I stand in eager silence as I stare at everything around me, smiling widely to myself. This is beautiful, and magical, and macabre and dark. Twisted and brilliant and I feel my excitement growing! To think I had almost missed out on this. All those times I almost turned around, all those times I questioned this trek? I would have missed this hauntingly dark island and the dead creatures that move along it. Words gush out from my mouth, still high pitched and giggling, almost as eerie as the island itself was in my eyes, "Such beauty, such darkness - even in the light! The trees like bones, spilling such precious blood, the leaves red and sharp like razors! An these creatures, oh these beautiful and morbid creatures. Why you don't even have a properly working head - like they stopped at your jaw and never finished your skull! Can I hug you? I want to hug you? You beautiful, dark and creepy creature! Why do we need the brilliant lights, and radiant creatures walking this earth when this island has all of you! I could stay here, with everything like this forever! With a carpet of grass festering like wounds, and the trees dripping their leaves like remnants of life's essence leaking from wounds. This is AMAZING!" I can't help but giggle all the while, my bright blue eyes wide with wonder, and my hooves carrying me deeper among the red limbed pale trees to see what other scenes this island has created for me!
"Speech"
Thoughts
Tagged ::
Notes :: I'm never going to apologize for her and her crazy LOL
I can't stop my hooves from walking though, as I make my way to this magical island I had heard whispers about - that changes with the seasons and was no in it's third appearance, but it was the appearance I wanted to see - it was this land that could take on a different design and this one meant to be something different in reds and purples and yellows, and I wanted to see nature in such a way that it might be something more unique, something as strange as me, perhaps it would be a new stage of darkness, a new stage of chaos . . . I wouldn't mind a new curtain to draw back to drape my imaginary world in, as I center myself into a stage of my own making where the universe (my version of it) can be limited to just one. A new setting, a call of scenery change. Yes, this island would be exotic, and different - and hopefully not filled with brilliance. Please, no brilliance.
My hooves hit the bridge that led to the odd, revolving island, and as my feet drag (just as much as wings did as they hung limply at my sides) the sound is reminds me of something being sharpened against a rock, like a killer planning a new murder and preparing their weapon. The thought leaves me giddy, more excited for what might be up ahead! Oh imagine, a murder being after me - like in a horror story, a nightmare tale - but this would be real life! Would I run away screaming, or would I eagerly embrace my murderer to be, thanking him for writing me into such a macabre tale. Would it be quick, or slow - painful or painless? Do others wonder how they might day? Or is it just me? Me and my scary mind? Scary girl.
I've heard all the terms for myself, those whispered behind my back in an attempt to keep me from hearing (I've heard them anyways) and the words spat in my face. I've long ago allowed myself to soak in the knowledge that I wasn't normal anymore. Too intrigued by what is considered dark, to caught up in a world with out light - in an attempt to keep from every having to see my ugly face. Ugly girl. Scary girl. Stay away from her girl. I didn't mind, I liked the being alone. And your day goes by so much easier when you no longer have to think or worry about what others say or expect of you. You don't have to primp yourself for hours on in (which was pointless, because you can't make an ugly mare pretty - so why should I bother anyways). You don't have to make sure you look good, you talk well, that you're ready for company. Any of it! It's just me, my skelly-buddies, the spiders and the snakes! What more could I ask for?
My hooves halt at the edge of the bridge as I take in the sea of grass before me. Purple as day old bruising, red as blood, yellow as pus. I start to giggle, the sound high and witchy - but I can't help it. What amazing grass! I rush in, diving beneath the strands as the grass sways around me, colors blending like a festering wound that was getting steadily worse, and my giggle increases in volume. How lovely, how wonderful these colors are! I stand tall, and can barely see over the grass line (thought the matted, tangled mass of forelock half obscures my gaze and I don't bother peering over the line for long). I duck my head low, and giggle once more, feeling like I'm hidden with in the woven lines of a horror novel, a monster waiting for the unsuspecting to jump up.
What else did this beautiful, dark island have to offer? In the back of my mind, I wonder if anyone else sees this terrain as I do - taking in the landscape and seeing the darker side of what these colors could symbolize, twisting what could be innocent hues into something dastardly. The thought doesn't last for long before I wave it away, and my walk continues, my wings creating grooves on either side of my hoof prints as they dragged along the ground, my tangled, matted mass of dark hair seeming to collect new twigs and pieces of broken grass waiting to be woven into the already dirty and defiled mess. I don't bother trying to keep it out of the way - I don't bother with appearance anyways. I see the first tree up ahead, and my hooves take off. The limbs are pale as bone, while the leaves seem to have exploded out from the branches, like the blood of the tree blooming forth. Each ruby leaf seemed to paint a starker and starker contrast against the pale bark, and my giggle returns. Festering wound hued grass, now bloodied bone trees? Who took one of my nightmares and gifted to to me with reality? I must thank them! They've out done themselves.
I practically dance between the trees, my wings now drawn up against my sides, feathers flaking off lazily from where they had been pulled free earlier by the dragging; and my tangled mass of hair seeming to twist around the branches and trunks as I move. Oh such beauty to be seen. I pass by some water, and catch a glimpse of violet - but move on before my reflection might catch my eye (I haven't seen it in years, no point in seeing it now)! Mountain ranges dotted the sky above, the water trailing down their razor formation like violet tears, and then I saw the first creature. I stare in wonder, in awe, in absolute rapture over the doe, ghostly in appearance, half formed like an artist had stopped half way through the creation process. My eyes move to other creatures created in a similar fashion, and their taunting laughter alights upon my ears. My grin turns almost predatory, stretched as far as my equine muzzle can allow as I stand and soak it all in, the way the dead seems to be taunting us in song, trailing through the island in broken forms and ghostly apparitions of decay.
I stand in eager silence as I stare at everything around me, smiling widely to myself. This is beautiful, and magical, and macabre and dark. Twisted and brilliant and I feel my excitement growing! To think I had almost missed out on this. All those times I almost turned around, all those times I questioned this trek? I would have missed this hauntingly dark island and the dead creatures that move along it. Words gush out from my mouth, still high pitched and giggling, almost as eerie as the island itself was in my eyes, "Such beauty, such darkness - even in the light! The trees like bones, spilling such precious blood, the leaves red and sharp like razors! An these creatures, oh these beautiful and morbid creatures. Why you don't even have a properly working head - like they stopped at your jaw and never finished your skull! Can I hug you? I want to hug you? You beautiful, dark and creepy creature! Why do we need the brilliant lights, and radiant creatures walking this earth when this island has all of you! I could stay here, with everything like this forever! With a carpet of grass festering like wounds, and the trees dripping their leaves like remnants of life's essence leaking from wounds. This is AMAZING!" I can't help but giggle all the while, my bright blue eyes wide with wonder, and my hooves carrying me deeper among the red limbed pale trees to see what other scenes this island has created for me!
"Speech"
Thoughts
Tagged ::
Notes :: I'm never going to apologize for her and her crazy LOL
