I have a livejournal that I write in almost as much as I do in this one. I was looking back on some entries I had written long ago and came upon this one. I never had a conclusion - an explination for this particular entry - but I think it is time to evaluate.
Here it is.
the WORLD.
Two very different but also very similar friends (girls) walk into a room.
The room is beautiful, with velvet curtains and a pretty spinning light that illuminates the room. The floor is marble and the borders around the ceiling are casted in white gold. And one side of the room is just a huge window that overlooks the vast city and its twinkling city lights.
On the table in the middle of the room are two petite boxes, very different in appearance but also very much the same, with ribbons and bows tied neatly around them.
Both girls walk toward the table and each of them pick up a box that best suits them.
Girl #1 She is of average beauty. people tell her she is pretty but never beautiful. her soul eminates depth and perception even though her skin is worn and scarred. she lives her life moment to moment. not particular about her actions, she doesn't mind looking stupid sometimes - she understands the definition of being human.
She picks up the uglier of the two boxes, it is tied by purple ribbons, and there is a dent on each of the corners like it had been dropped . . . she puts the box to her ear and shakes it - but it doesn't make a sound.
Girl #2 she is very beautiful. gets everything she wants. praised by her beauty she lives her life on broken glass. Each step is thought out and evaluated so as not to break the image of her blistering ego.
She picks up the pretty box, this box is bright and tied with yellow ribbons, it is perfect, no dents, no indentations . . . she puts the box to her ear and shakes it, but this box makes a sound - sort of like - popcorn popping in the microwave.
Excited and no longer able to hold off the curiosity in their minds, both girls rip their tiny little boxes open with their giddy little fingers in this beautiful room.
A metaphore, if you will:
Girl #1 - she opens the box to find a perfect glass heart. And although the box was boring and ugly - a dent on each corner like it had been dropped - she found no abnormalities to this perfect glass heart she held in her hand. She was happy about this. And so it showed.
Girl #2 - she opens the box to find something far less appreciative. Although her box was the prettiest with no dents and no visible signs of tampering, she found inside - her little glass heart shattered into tiny little pieces. She couldn't even hold the heart in her hands afraid that she might get cut. She was devestated about this. And so it showed.
What is to be said of all of this?
(TO BE CON'T. . . . )
Or make your own assumption if you will.
Here it is.
the WORLD.
Two very different but also very similar friends (girls) walk into a room.
The room is beautiful, with velvet curtains and a pretty spinning light that illuminates the room. The floor is marble and the borders around the ceiling are casted in white gold. And one side of the room is just a huge window that overlooks the vast city and its twinkling city lights.
On the table in the middle of the room are two petite boxes, very different in appearance but also very much the same, with ribbons and bows tied neatly around them.
Both girls walk toward the table and each of them pick up a box that best suits them.
Girl #1 She is of average beauty. people tell her she is pretty but never beautiful. her soul eminates depth and perception even though her skin is worn and scarred. she lives her life moment to moment. not particular about her actions, she doesn't mind looking stupid sometimes - she understands the definition of being human.
She picks up the uglier of the two boxes, it is tied by purple ribbons, and there is a dent on each of the corners like it had been dropped . . . she puts the box to her ear and shakes it - but it doesn't make a sound.
Girl #2 she is very beautiful. gets everything she wants. praised by her beauty she lives her life on broken glass. Each step is thought out and evaluated so as not to break the image of her blistering ego.
She picks up the pretty box, this box is bright and tied with yellow ribbons, it is perfect, no dents, no indentations . . . she puts the box to her ear and shakes it, but this box makes a sound - sort of like - popcorn popping in the microwave.
Excited and no longer able to hold off the curiosity in their minds, both girls rip their tiny little boxes open with their giddy little fingers in this beautiful room.
A metaphore, if you will:
Girl #1 - she opens the box to find a perfect glass heart. And although the box was boring and ugly - a dent on each corner like it had been dropped - she found no abnormalities to this perfect glass heart she held in her hand. She was happy about this. And so it showed.
Girl #2 - she opens the box to find something far less appreciative. Although her box was the prettiest with no dents and no visible signs of tampering, she found inside - her little glass heart shattered into tiny little pieces. She couldn't even hold the heart in her hands afraid that she might get cut. She was devestated about this. And so it showed.
What is to be said of all of this?
(TO BE CON'T. . . . )
Or make your own assumption if you will.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
i wanna throw sand @ you ....