I want to see you fail. I want to look you right in your eyes as the good intentions you conceived in the dark become your worst mistakes when introduced to light. As everything you touch turns gold and everything your gold touches turns green. I want you to doubt yourself. I want to see every last one of your periods get colonized by questions marks. I want it to be bloody. I want it to be forceful. To the point that if cupid shot you in broad daylight you wouldnt be able to pick him out of a lineup of your worst enemies serenading your destruction. I want your sense of self to die of the most unnatural of causes. Who are you? I want the echo following that question to be endless and uninterrupted. When your plane crosses the border and touches down on reality, I want the exchange rate of your brightest ideas to equate to dust and ash. You are the color purple. And if pride and self-confidence is red, I want every fiber of you to turn blue. Your heart? Blue. Your mind? Blue. I want every syllable you speak to sound blue. I want life to read through an endless attendance list of people named Red, stop at your name, and ask you how to pronounce Blue. I want to see you succeed. I want them to be in awe of your strength and blind to the burden that built it. Who are you? I want the echo from the first time that question was posed to be broken by an answer only struggle could give you. Because nothing is uninterrupted. I want you to become comfortable with uncertainty. I want those same question marks to decorate your accent. I want you to speak with it every chance you get. I want to look you right in the eyes as the fears you conceived in the dark become what guide you in the light.
Posted on: Tue, 20 May 2014 04:17:49 +0000
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