ｔｏ ｔｈａｗ．

          reminder    that    you    can    find    me    here .

               lowkey   SELF - PROMOTION   for   the   lowkey   NEW   BLOG .

 SHARPENED   SENSES   aid   in   identification   of   shared   mistech    ;         acforage   stands   among   few    specifications   that   deftness   has   been   ACHIEVED   in.      ❛     i   can   hear   you.     ❜      syllables    intertwine   with   CANOROUS   SINGSONG.    (  she   needs   not   even   turn   around.  )

 INTRIGUED   GAZE   FLITS   ACROSS   COVER   OF   MADE   EXAMPLE,   a   glint   of   white   peeking   behind  upper   tier   as  front   teeth   catch   on   the   lower.    ❛     huh   .   .   .     well,   i   like   LOVE    STORIES   !     but,   uh,   more   specifically,   love   stories   with   HAPPY  endings   –––––   if,   y’know,    anyone   still   writes   those   kinds   anymore.   oh  !   and   also,   fairytales   are   always   great.     ❜    at    which   point   thoughts   begin   to   meander   along   winding   paths   of   their   OWN   INVENTION    :       slain   dragons,   dashing,   daring   princes,   miraculous   rescues   from   even   the   TALLEST   towers.    upon   REALIZATION   of   her   own   drifting   into   fantasyland,   straightening   of   spine   follows   abrupt   clearing  of   throat.     ❛     would   YOU   recommend   anything  in   particular   .   .   .   ?     ❜

 ❛     oh   –––––   pfffft.   don’t   be   sorry,   not   for   a   SECOND.     ❜      among   majority   in   such    environments,   slightest   sliver   of   GRATITUDE   is   identical   to   irreparable   WEAKNESS   ;      this   is    reason   for   dismissal   of   apology   with   waving   of   hand.    ❛     as   a   matter   of   fact,   i   probably    ought   to   be   THANKING   YOU   –––––   this   old   thing   .   .   .   ?    uh.   SO   last   season.     ❜     because  similar   kvetchings   flow   from   painted   lips   of   others   at   what   gatherings   she   attends,   because    playing   pretend   has   reawakened   itself   from   years   of   mirthful   juvenescence   and   welded   an    odd  idea   of   an   ideal   lifestyle.    in   absence   of   clearly   established   set   of   DO’s   and   DO -   NOT’s,   the   game   is   an   ONEROUS   ONE   to   partake   in,   and   never   has   SECOND - GUESSING    felt   so   SECOND - NATURE   until   now.    (  there   is   either   black   or   white,   COSTLY   or   worthless,   a   lack   of   morality   or   STUPIDITY   ––––   and   even   in   perception   of   a   wide - eyed   optimist,   the  world   appears   to   have   been   TURNED   ON   ITS   EAR.  )    cue   a   BRIGHT   SMILE,   though   she   is  nowhere   near   as   ADEPT   in   materializing   masks,   in   concealing   what   lies   beneath   surface   as    others.     ❛     ah,   the   .   .   .    the   FANCY   WATER   sounds   –––––   REFRESHING   !     ❜

 INSTINCT   PROPELS   MOVEMENT,    fingertips   toying  with  fabric’s  edge   as   head   snaps   around   in    search   of   girlish   timbre’s   source.   compliments   seem   to  edge   on   SCARCE   inside   of   endless    corridors,   all   focused   on   slipping   into   assigned   seats   before   incessant   pealing   of   bell   shatters  what   illusory   remnant   of   SLEEP   lingers   into   daylight   hours   (  or   before   one   is   cornered   by    one   of   the   infamous   HEATHERS,   so   whispers   in   halls   lead   her   to   believe  ).     ❛     oh,   i   –––  thank   you   !     ❜     a   beat,   in   which   grin   falters   with   expression   of   confusion.                        ❛     err   ––––––   very   what   .   .   .   ?     ❜

after   so   long   without   it,   i   am   surprised   by   the   warmth   in   the   sun's   rays.    no   longer   does   it   leach   my   heat   but   instead   it   gives   to   me.    once   more,   my   breaths   are   quite   invisible,   and the   birds   are   more   active in the sky.    still cloud lingers,   but   today   it   is   not   a   dense   layer   of  grey,   but   instead   a   CHAOTIC   array   of   white   puffy   shapes   amid   the   blue.    i   stretch   out   my    hands   and   tilt   my   face   upward.    this   sun   is   not   enough   to   burn     ––––––   even   for   me   –––––  and   whilst   it   has   the   first   lick   of   summer   about   it,   i   put    that   out   of   my   mind.    savouring    the   moment   is   IMPORTANT   ;     tomorrow   isn't    guaranteed   to   anyone,   NOT  EVEN  ME.                                  (  poem  credit   to  angela  seanor.  )

 FOCUS  SNAPS  UPWARDS  FROM  MAGAZINE’S  GLOSSED  PAGES,   brows  lifting  in  faint  surprise.     ❛     OH   ––––   !    oh,  hi  !    hi.  i  .   .   .   err.   SURE,  yeah  !     ❜     fragmented  ripostes  tumble  into  hubbub  of  the  workplace,   ankle  rolling  uncomfortably  before  heel  pushes  its  way  out  of  and  back  into  heel  of  shoe    (  sure,  the  jourdans  look  nice,  but  blistering  skin  SCREAMS  its  objection  ;    ah,  well,  ’BEAUTY  IS  PAIN’  ).     ❛     what  sorts  of  things   –––––   DRINKS   –––––   d’you  HAVE  ?     ❜

 CRESCENDO   OF   SHEER   STILLNESS   BECOMES   DEAFENING,    painfully  prolix  as  infinitesimal  droplets  kiss  clouded  glass,  as  mindlessly  darting  gaze  catches  the  changing  of  numerals  of  digital  clock    (  attentions  waste  no  time  in  FORFENDING  to  nothing  in  particular   ;        harbingers  of  eventual  fate  STING  in  more  ways  than  one  ).   never  has  description  of  ‘RECLUSIVE’    ––––   or,    frankly,  anything  remotely  akin  to  such  a  considered  trait   –––––   been  bestowed  upon  younger  of  the  pair,  though  present  tableau  presents  IMAGES  WARPED  BEYOND   RECOGNITION,   a  fully  opposite  being.      (  OBSERVE    /    CONCLUDE    :     arms  wrapped  around  knees  so  tightly  that  it  seems  as  if  without  this  minuscule  form  of  support,  form  will  SHATTER  entirely  combined  with   uncharacteristic  ablepsia    /     what’s  HARD  is  simple   –––––   what’s  NATURAL  comes  HARD.  )          ❛     .   .   .   there’s  not  really  a  question  as  to  WHY.    i  mean,  it’s  barely  been  a  WEEK,   elsa.   i  ––  i’d  feel  bad  if  i  were  able  to.     ❜      and  the  following  stream  of  LAUGHTER  is  as  weak  as  it  is  brief,   digits  winding  pathways  into  mussed  tresses  before  tightening  with  shaking  of  cranium.      ❛     i'm  SORRY,   i  –––  look,  uh.   would  it  be  okay  if  i  spent  the  night  in  here ?   with  YOU   .   .   .   ?     ❜