So She Says

Something I started writing as of late. It's unfinished. Maybe I'll complete it, maybe I won't.
So my dear pathetic readers..before i give up on the idea completely, have a read.



Sitting here gives me a calm I cannot begin to explain.
It’s like putting seashells to your ear, listening to rushing sounds within. Pretending it’s the ocean you hear. And all around is chaos, except for that gentle pressure of the cold seashell on your ear.
A world, unlike the one you live in, trapped in a seashell.

I was always a believer of signs, horoscopes, stars, you name it, I know it. I blamed the clash of our personalities on astrology. Me, the goat. She, the ram. My mother. How else should I explain it? The very words. My mother. Says so much.

A movie I once saw said that women are all the same. Mothers, daughters, nieces, aunts are like stairs, going up, going down but always going the same way. The younger me used to think “I’ll never want to be like her when I grow up.” But the cycle has already begun.

I trace the lines on my palm left by the patterns of the uneven concrete. The redness slowly spreading, disappearing and I’m left with nothing but the smooth rubbery whiteness. I watch people jostling about under my feet. Animated. Almost too rehearsed. Reacting to me above. Me. Finally I’m in control.