i was in bed, but got a sort of anxiety/panic attack when i thought about my thesis and all the work i had to do (mostly my thesis, though) so i got up and started writing after like an hour of fast heartbeats and word storming in my head. et voila.
Close Enough
There was once a lioness that longed to be blue. Not for her fur, her paws, her eyes and tongue to be dyed, but for her existence to transmogrify from animal to hue. She yearned with the ferocity that other lions reserved for their prey, so made a poor huntress, stretched thin on impossibility. (Strange how some are intrinsically intimate with unattainable desire, while others are so lackluster in their insect-chasing success). One day, a tornado blustered into the plain, and the lion pride fled; only the wistful lioness stood in its way. Scram, said the tornado, or it will be your end. So I will end, replied the lioness calmly, for I wish to become blue. You will not become blue; you will not be the sky, nor will you be water, nor a bluebell, nor a jay, nor anything remotely in that color, the tornado insisted. I do not want to be in that color, I want to be that color, the lioness clarified. Well, you will not be that color either, you will die, then you will be ashes that turn into dust, and you will be the grey of a dull eternity, predicted the tornado, and that is not a grey you want to become. Better to be unassuming, humble dust lifted in dreaming a futile dream, than a lioness, beautiful and golden, wasted on the unfeasible; a queen with her head and knees sealed to the ground, explained the lioness. Very well, I see your point; it’s an excellent point actually. May I add, that when you are ashes and dust and terribly grey, the wind will carry you around. Being a speck in the sky, you will be surrounded by blue, an ultimate, invading blue, and you may feel that you are part of that blue: seeing, smelling, tasting, being nothing else. Almost, added the tornado. Nearly, said the lioness, could be close enough; come on, now.
any feedback is, as always, greatly, muchly, terribly appreciated.
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this makes me smile and want to cry at the same time. the personification and subsequent conversation between these two conventionally and totally separate... beings really worked, i thought. your clarification right at the beginning also pulled me in right away and made me realise the gravity of her desire: but for her existence to transmogrify from animal to hue.
ReplyDeletehaha i am inarticulate in the face of your wordstorm, lj. suffice to say something in me is moved; perhaps it has to do with recognising what it feels like to want the impossible, where the unrealistic-ness of the goal does nothing to make the desire itself any less real.
find it sad and beautifull
ReplyDeleteso wonderful. i agree with michelle on all terms.
ReplyDeletei want this
ReplyDeleteif you don't mind lah
ReplyDeleteim thinking of making a postcard collage a la rabbit one in previous post for this!
ReplyDeleteobviously i go around copying people's ideas