Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Good Morning, Beautiful.

I woke up next to the most beautiful woman that I have ever happened upon this morning. Looking over that face and recognizing it as something familiar and close to me sent a swell of emotions into my heart that wished me well, a good morning, and bid me a kiss on the cheek with dearest affections stitched into it. Without a word, through that single image of her, I could hear so many of her thoughts and feel her stirring--though the visage I looked on was merely a photo taped to notebook paper that had been taken near two years ago. God, has it been so long?

“Anime?” I could have gagged.
Back in those days, I had a different hair color and my mind was mayhap still the same tinge of warped eccentricity but with a lot less control than I have over it now. I was shorter by barely an inch and I was riding off of the high of a long-winded, depression-laced eighth grade year. I had done a lot of losing, scraping and crying. And now, to top it off, I was accepted into the very school that I had been trying not to get into. At that time, I had wanted to be as far from my house as possible for as long as possible. Now that I would be going to NCT, I would be a ten minute walk from that trailer at best the only time that I would ever be out of it.
(I suppose once we hit high school, we either begin a steady plummet into our “Golden Years” or we live the next four years on a very rocky incline. Every once in a while, some resilient soul drops but they’ve planned ahead well enough to have brought some climbing gear. I’m still not sure whether I’m going up or down. It seems like a lot of walking in place, really. And I still can‘t figure out who of us are better off in this world at the rate of things.)
So, come the first week of school, I walk along that scrumptiously dangerous four-way and get a good grip on a campus map and a list of destinations. By about lunch, I had decided that I had some work to do. No, not the typical movie-rendered stereotypes of, Yeah, I’m gonna kick ass this year and this is how! No. I began to plan my… domination of the student populace. Sound evil to any extent? I think, with no over-dramatization on that part, evil may have been a very good borderline description of my thought processes at that age.
I found a particularly deluded whelp and sank in my fangs, so to say. I approached him with friendliness, tagged a line that was ambiguous enough to not seem too inviting but enough to spark a conversation. It worked and the boy ended up sitting with me at lunch, pouring on some drivel about his Summer. And as I weathered the storm of pointless words being thrown at my face with no specific purpose behind them besides an excuse to expel oxygen, I was rewarded. It turned out that he wasn’t a complete and utter loser--he was a loser with friends! Joy.
When he was done eating and I was done tossing some poor Ethiopian’s last meal into the trash, we parted ways. I went to “search for someone.” He went to meet with his cluster of friends, offering to save me a place amongst the group if I sought such a position before lunch ended. In truth, I had been considering hiding away in some dark avenue but found this desire to be fruitless as I soon realized that in high school, there is no shaded corner without a couple within. Ah, the boundless things to revel in this new land, indeed.
Cody, that was his name I recall now, had found his “group” of friends and I soon trickled over with all the speed of a drop of molasses. My venturing gained me the acquaintances of a junior named Dan and a senior named Lisa, though I still hung around the edges, weighing my options. Did I want to get involved with the upperclassmen marching band kids? Hm. Not…really. No. But it would do for the moment. And again, I was rewarded, for a minute or two later, Cody was ushered over to a group that was fairly more appropriately titled on which the two upperclassmen had sidled themselves. I hung back, feeling awkward, but keeping a pleasant smile for good measure. When I found the opportunity to insert myself with a “genuine” interest in the topic, I did exactly that.
“Anime?” I had pressed my hands gingerly against Cody’s shoulders and leaned ever so to the right of him, giving the appearance of this small thing popping out of seemingly nowhere. I willed my eyes to glitter and my voice to reach distances it did not oft reach. Honestly, however, anime was something I knew not much of beyond commonly used internet terms, nor did I care much of it. But again, this was all in the name of domination, so to speak, and a good warrior is also a good actress. The pen, as a wise man has said, is mightier than the sword, after all.

With this gesture of ulterior motives, I introduced myself into the life of Miss Lanna, mine most precious gem.

From then on, my intentions began to shift, all thanks to that wonderful young woman. I don’t remember quite what shifted my focus but it shifted it slowly, precisely. Almost as precisely as the games that I had begun to subject the anime children to. Yes, I admit, I was a cruel little demon of a child and I wholly intended upon using them. And I did. Many times. Although, some of the friendships that were formed were true and honest enough in time. I’m not one for games anymore, you see, again, something that Alanna has shifted in me. I do occasionally partake in them but only when I must. And I feel horrible afterwards. Disgusting. All because I once tried to play them on her.
A million little things led up to our friendship and a million things more led up to what it is now. The only name that we’ve found that may even remotely scratch the surface is Romantic Friendship. No, seriously, wiki it. We laughed. So much. And I simply revel in the irony of a mini-historian like myself having an ancient relationship such as that. Now, mayhap in your mind that would translate as “lesbians” or mayhap even something so trashy as “friends with benefits.” Well, I say, give it what credit you will and we shall forever continue to confuse the masses<3. style="font-weight: bold;">


Question of the Day
: What would it be like to swallow a razor?
Think on that bit and imagine it in all its glory. (:

3 comments:

  1. I love you, too, beloved. I'd like to say something pretty here, but I've got you on the phone so. :) I'll just roar like a dinosaur and explode into a million little rainbows instead.

    What would it be like to swallow a razor?

    It would be like me, screaming and flailing around in a circle with my hair turned white and six heart attacks in a row as I demand why you did that and drag you to the hospital with tears of worrisome fury.

    DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, LAVU.

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  2. How was your night? Mine was wonderful, with you by my side.


    SISSY GOD DAMNIT STAY AWAY FROM MY RAZORS.
    NOW! >O
    I love you but... but. No =w=

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  3. That is actually a very interesting question....

    If I had to describe it, it would be an experience where I would truly be able to experience where I would firsthand explore the journey of torture and answer my own question of whether or not I deserve such torture. All and all, I would probably welcome it ^_^

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