Post by NATHAN SAUNDERS on Mar 12, 2015 22:34:08 GMT
prompt set #366
place for everything / as short as possible / ahead of you / our glamorous future / that eerie sound / lifeless place /piano music / too much for too little / senseless action / inevitable failure
place for everything / as short as possible / ahead of you / our glamorous future / that eerie sound / lifeless place /
PIANO MUSIC
your parents come up with 'nathan' because they've always loved her first. your sister 'natalia.'
she is as beautiful as she is kind. it doesn't immediately strike everyone she meets because unfortunately she's not a fictional construct. she is kind as she is smart. she's as kind as she is strong. even her bad habits, dotted in the picture of her personality; her tendency to leave her things lying around the house, how she occasionally forgets minor yet still important tasks of the day, or the clueless way she forces into everyone's life as a cheerful storm is written off as 'endearing'. 'endearing', 'cute' or 'charming'.
and you've always hated the fact that you've only ever been part of the crowd she pulled along. she is as kind to you as she is to boyfriends who forget to text her back for hours on end. she is as kind to you as she is to the friend of hers who constantly asks her for money she doesn't have. you find yourself judging the 'bad habits' of the people she cares about mercilessly. and you've been doing it long before you started to realise it.
once you did, she is far from your reach. you watch her first concour in your fresh high school uniform third row from the back, in a dark corner. she is bathed in the light. but however false it is, that light, it is still sunlight to you. because she is your sun, and you don't speak to her any more.
your childhood seems like a faraway myth from a religion you don't believe in. its backing track is the music from her piano, saved from pennies, playing self constructed lullabies and folk songs you've never heard of. you still don't know them by name, and it's still unlikely you'll know it if you ever hear it again. because you'll never hear it again from your sister's piano.
when did you start to loathe her?
she plays music for the masses now. she plays concertos and sonatas, not folk songs and children's songs. she won't (ever) look your way now.
> has she ever looked your way
> really?
really. you don't know. she's hurting. don't know. he's disappointed. don't know. she's worried. don't know.
you can't admit to yourself that you've ever lived for her. because she's certainly never lived for you. the sun pulls you in orbit but never moves. just sits, and watches.
you should have known she wasn't going to wave you off at the station.
she is as beautiful as she is kind. it doesn't immediately strike everyone she meets because unfortunately she's not a fictional construct. she is kind as she is smart. she's as kind as she is strong. even her bad habits, dotted in the picture of her personality; her tendency to leave her things lying around the house, how she occasionally forgets minor yet still important tasks of the day, or the clueless way she forces into everyone's life as a cheerful storm is written off as 'endearing'. 'endearing', 'cute' or 'charming'.
and you've always hated the fact that you've only ever been part of the crowd she pulled along. she is as kind to you as she is to boyfriends who forget to text her back for hours on end. she is as kind to you as she is to the friend of hers who constantly asks her for money she doesn't have. you find yourself judging the 'bad habits' of the people she cares about mercilessly. and you've been doing it long before you started to realise it.
once you did, she is far from your reach. you watch her first concour in your fresh high school uniform third row from the back, in a dark corner. she is bathed in the light. but however false it is, that light, it is still sunlight to you. because she is your sun, and you don't speak to her any more.
your childhood seems like a faraway myth from a religion you don't believe in. its backing track is the music from her piano, saved from pennies, playing self constructed lullabies and folk songs you've never heard of. you still don't know them by name, and it's still unlikely you'll know it if you ever hear it again. because you'll never hear it again from your sister's piano.
when did you start to loathe her?
she plays music for the masses now. she plays concertos and sonatas, not folk songs and children's songs. she won't (ever) look your way now.
> has she ever looked your way
> really?
really. you don't know. she's hurting. don't know. he's disappointed. don't know. she's worried. don't know.
you can't admit to yourself that you've ever lived for her. because she's certainly never lived for you. the sun pulls you in orbit but never moves. just sits, and watches.
you should have known she wasn't going to wave you off at the station.
