Direct Observations of Objects and a Possible Comparison

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about how a lot of things in life imitate each other. And about stuff. A ton of stuff. So here’s a blog post about that stuff, maybe.

For the needles in my cheek after I had my first cavity: You felt awful. I cringe thinking of you, and god I still cant envision those sharp points piercing my flesh. I hated every second of it even though my dentist is nice. But its okay, because now my teeth are healthy again, and I’ve started taking extra steps to make sure that never happens again.

For the dress I bought but never want to wear: You looked so sweet on the hanger. You looked pretty damn good on me too, but something was always missing when I slid you on. But that’s okay, because I’m gonna return you so someone else can get some use out of your long folds of delicate fabric. Just because you weren’t meant for me doesn’t mean you’re not perfect for someone else.

For my lipstick: Everyone else loves you, and I love makeup so why wouldn’t I love you too? I’m still wondering why every time I swipe you on before I leave the house I have to scramble and wipe it off before I step outside. Maybe its my fault, maybe I’m putting it on wrong. But I just don’t like the way you look on my lips. It’s weird.

For my old fountain pen: I used to cherish you more than anything else. I bought you at a museum. You were different and the letters I wrote with you were so fresh and nice. I could do anything with you in my hands, even though your tip became a little broken. But I’ve lost my fountain pen. Maybe it’s somewhere under my desk, maybe I threw it away on accident. Whatever happened, please come back. I miss you, and it’s starting to scare me.

For the little pink journal that I’m using to draft this right now: I feel like I can do absolutely anything when I’m with you. Anything at all. I can’t help that I’m jealous of how organized and inspired I am when I use you. But at the same time, some of the pages are messy. Random song lyrics I like, drawings that I never finished. The string page marker that’s a little unraveled at the end. it all comes together so nicely. I can’t wait to see what you bring me in the future. I’ve poured my heart into that little journal, my tears have touched that journal, and that makes it seem not so little at all.

Angelle

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