gorlhasproblems

[gorlhasproblems]

The girl was made of stone, and her lover was made of vines. How beautiful they were together. The passersbys stared at their unwavering determination, and at how tangled together they became. But the girl did not realize that the vines were breaking her apart, ripping her apart slowly. She became nothing but crumbles, grey rubble on the grass.

[gorlhasproblems]

Love is a wild animal.

And I am a lonely cowgirl, staring it down on a great plain. It's mane rustles in the wind, and as I watch, I feel a great American need to own its beauty.

Something so beautiful must be possessed.

I have tried so many times to capture it, tame it, and keep it as my constant companion. I have tried bribes, threats, and dedication. Love is the stallion I will ride into a future of stability, far from my life as an outlaw.

My desperation has brought me no fruits.

I circle the wild beast. Should I even try to break it? The more I chase it with a bit and bridal, the quicker it will run from me. True love, I imagine like a trusted steed. It will carry me home... even when I am too drunk and stupid to guide it.

I want love that wants me. Openly. Unapologetically. Faithfully. That uses all the words I've been dying to hear. I refuse to force anything, and I promise to speak my mind.

I want love that will run towards me when I call it's name. And if it is true, I won't have to force it to stay.

Love will, instead, capture me.

[gorlhasproblems]

A woman sat in a badly damaged lawn chair, a lit joint burning in-between her finger tips. It was about half-way smoked. She took a few deep hits, flourished by coughs and a look of acceptance, and then she snuffed the remaining roach on an orange glass ashtray.

She began to speak.

"When I was a young girl I used to think-

'Spring is when bad things happen because I'm not paying attention.'

You see, I was often distracted by green meadows, paint splotch wildflowers, and gentle rains.

I wasn't watching my best friend when she drowned.

When her dark hair sunk beneath the cold rush of melted snow. When her laugh disappeared into the grey stones rounded by many summers.

If only I had been watching. I could have called a life guard; one of them ones in bright red shorts with a longboard and a handsome face.

I could have jumped in after her and grasped her shoulders with my hands. Found the strength to pull her up. Or at least the dignity to drown with her.

Instead, I was listening to the birdsong and learning how to drown out the insults of my father.

Instead, I was learning the meaning of true love and all its evils, and the fastest way to dry my mother's tears.

That morning, I stood on the edge of the water, waiting for her to surface. My young body trembled and I heard a voice I only later realized was my own, screaming into the wind. When I realized she had really sunk to a depth too far to be saved, I prayed that god would send me down with her.

How dare I survive! How dare god let me live, while she disappeared into oblivion! How could he do this! For only he knew what her best friend meant to that little girl.

I survived, and therefor I learned.

'Horrible things happen when you turn your back. You must always have your eyes on your loved ones, and praise them infinitely. Every conflict must be solved as fast as possible, because you may never have a chance to apologize.

One that note, apologize often and sincerely. (Even if you believe yourself to be right.) Or else, you may never be forgiven. Love is precious and rare and can disappear without warning, so you must hold it with a dictator's grip. Serenity is a distraction from the turbulent, cruel truth of nature. Do not trust it.

Only watch a sunset if you are holding the hand of your lover. You must have proof that they will not disappear.

Have only a few loved ones of importance. It is impossible to watch everyone.

All achievements must be completed as soon as possible. Death is imminent and unpredictable. Youth is a lie.

Observation and obsession are the truest forms of love.

Spring is only a distraction. Do not engage with the wildflowers, or the birdsong, or the ladybug on the oak leaf.

All the seasons and beauty of the world are in conflict with the need to protect what you love.

Spring is when bad things happen because you aren't paying attention.'

This way of thinking kept me alive. It was a way of believing I could prevent what happened to her from happening again. In this strange way, It was empowering.

But it destroyed my relationships.

It destroyed my self worth.

And it no longer protects me from pain.

The truth is that there is no way to prevent the darkness. The bombs cannot be dodged. Cancer cannot be prevented permanently. War will never stop waging. Death will continue to take the young and beautiful.

Yes, grab on to what you can! Yes! Love passionately and deeply! But do not sacrifice everything. Do not abandon serenity and peace for the scrounging of the desperate.

Balance is real and is more important than anything. Watch the sunset, listen to the birdsong, shout shitty punk music in your bedroom. Make bad jokes and don't apologize. Step on some toes. Be unsuccessful, you are allowed it.

Holding on to love with a death-grip will kill it.

Love yourself with the devotion of a priestess, not a soldier.

Spring is a gift. Enjoy it."

After finishing, she pulled her jacket tighter around her, as if the night had suddenly become quite cold. A few stars winked dimly in the sky. The crickets sung their strange songs, and the woman wandered off to sleep.

(image source- unknown)