You know, they say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Life is like a book, it has a spine and pages to read. It can be open, it can be closed. It can be a journal, it can be a diary. It can be happy it can be dark. Whatever mood it is, my book is always open, waiting for the rain to wash away the letters... so that i can write new ones again. You see, my pages never run out, not yet any ways. There is much more of me that wants to see the world, that wants to look at other people, that wants to feel love again. Too many bad things have happened, also too many good has come. Its not what you get, but what you give. That is peoples' mistake. They want..want..want. But hardly ever think how...how...how. Somewhere in this world, the cheap shoe you're wearing is made by a small child working his ass off to make that crap shoe of yours cheap. what color is it? Green? Blue...or maybe even yellow? It doesnt matter, as long as you get.
She was walking along the river bank when i first saw her, and there she was again. Long curly hair flying in the wind, long silk dress dyed in light blue that patterned the shiny blue of her eyes. She was beautiful, not overly done, but beautiful. And that was the first time i laid eyes on her, and loved her. Love is like a fragile being. Beat it, abuse it, take it by force and its gone like sand in the wind. Comfort it, be patient with it, hold it, it blossoms like a lilly in early spring. I approached her, each time i did, my heart beating faster than before. She looked at me, I looked at her. Deep into her eyes i looked, but her... she looked right through me. She looked right through my hollow body, my invisible form of human. She couldnt see me, but i could see her. A subtle breeze blew across the medow, whistles from the tress accompanied its swaying motions. It was then that she cried. She cried her first tears in a long time. Streams of tears flowed like a waterfall down her rosey cheeks. Tears dripped from her eyes like rain in an autumn night. She wanted to stop, but she couldnt. She wanted to be brave, but now she couldnt. I stood away from her, watching her weep. She looked like she could use a shoulder to cry on, but i didnt have one. All i could do was watch... remembering the times we shared together. All our evenings were filled with laughter, smiles, drinking and occassionally a kiss from her to me that made my day all better. We were lovers, but she was a married woman. Too often had she been away from home that her husband became suspicious. Rampage, as if a demon from hell, he hit her how a man should never hit a woman. He beat her like a dog taking a lashing. He cursed at her as enemies do. I was there at that moment, all I wanted to do was protect her. But i failed. She laid there bloodied and bruised, and i laid there dead. She knelt over my body, even in death i could feel the warmth of her hands. I miss it. There she knelt, on the medow, in the presence of lillies, she cried. She cried for me to come back, she cried for me to lend her my shoulder. She cried out my name, all i could do was watch. I am nothing but a soul in despair, but she has despair in her soul. We were lovers, now we are worlds apart
The mood is changing around here. The chill is dropping in.
p.s. if lemonade doesnt have sugar, its lemons altogether.
