Celestial Me

Post-Oscars, I just had to get this out of my system. Listened to "Charlie Brown" by Coldplay while writing this. While it's not as structured, as concrete, or as powerful as Frankenstein Child, it's in the same style of stream-of-consciosusness. One of those moments where something must be written, or all sanity is lost.

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CELESTIAL ME

"Here with the lights and all the world?s eye - on the cusp of eternity."

?Do you believe in me?? I asked, holding out my hand.

You took it, and I squeezed it tight. Too tight, I think. What if it broke, snapped like Cinderella?s slipper? Then I?d have blood on my hands all over again, and glass shards, mirror-form, enough for seven years upon years of bad luck.

The world was burning in my face. This was a city of lights, of colors, of sound ? told through false voices of bottle-head blonds. This was a city seen mostly through the screen and heard mostly through speakers, and I was in the midst of it, gliding through in a sleek white missile bound for heart and home.

You didn?t answer me, though. You didn?t answer my question. But I saw the flashes, I heard the roars, and I remembered that I am what I pretend to be.

I had taken a plane to this city, to take what they offered me. A chance at gold, a chance for something I had always wanted. To be painted. To be strained, stretched, and stuffed into something worth a small fortune, but as useful as a caged bird.

?Whatever you do,? you said as the limo slowed, ?don?t forget to smile.?

A blast of heat met me ? flashes, too. I set one foot on the concrete and felt things fall away into scarecrow dreams. Shouts, cries, catcalls. Colors ? snatches of scarlet and peach and dark, dark emerald.

And I smiled! Oh, how I smiled. Every detail stood out to me. Winding paths, the cameras, the stands, the boys, the girls, everything that mattered to me.

Don?t think about it! I told myself, as though this were some fever dream that if given too much contemplation, would burst forth like some horror. Don?t think about it!

I had an eternity coursing through my body. Breathing was hard to do, as everyone else had taken the air. Faces and presences, bodies seen normally so far away, all pressed into one entity, a creature I was expected to dance for.

You stayed with me even as my hand grew sweaty, and I almost lost my mind. Midnight struck closer and closer, but still I dragged you on.

Do you believe in me? Of course you did. You had let me bring you this far ? I had a two-dollar coin clenched in my other fist so hard, its ridges dug into the skin of my palm.

My life came in quivers as lives, characters, being and feeling spiraled out of control on the screen like a thousand racing rockets. Each title card, each envelope brought me closer. The lights go down. Then up. Music starts, then stops.

I was close to tears through the entire ordeal, for I wrestle now with two great fears ? not getting what I know will be mine, and achieving that stupid, crazy, senseless dream to the upmost, as though I do not deserve it.

BUT I AM SOME HARLOT.

The papers would read it loud. The post-show commentary would rage.

I AM A HOPELESS WRECK.

The slipper has smashed, and there is no prince.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN ME?

I think I burst through the vague, unhelpful sentiment and came to some realization. Sitting in the dark, alone, intentionally alone, intentionally apart in the dead hours of night will bring me no closer to a stage with all of the lights, all the world?s eyes, on the cusp of eternity and my too-loud proclaimed dream as a sorrowful, but celestial me.

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/o19_GMLt9so/viewtopic.php

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