February 26, 2012

Narcissistically Speaking



I'm finding myself again. Not finding myself, because I'm right down the unfinished staircase, but myself.

I guess I'm finding God again.

I do this thing sometimes where I like to know someone before I choose.

"You smell good." That's what you said to me, just like you've said a million times before, but this time it worked just enough. I get mad at myself sometimes, and I drive the car that I think will impress you. It worked. "'It's white.' That's all you have to say?" That sentence flew straight off your lips to make it seem like I didn't care that much, and that's just what I wanted. I did care though. I do, and I smiled about it on the way home.

The "notes" app on my iPod is filled with things that come out my ears and fall through my fingers and make clicking sounds. I never type in silence. I like award shows and laundry detergent and playing games on my bed while dissecting text messages

I write in my journal when it's most inconvenient because that's when I write best. I solve puzzles and I like the way Best Buy smells when you walk in. I can win a game of solitaire in four minutes and forty-seven seconds and I can finish Sudoku in seven minutes and three seconds.

Pretending that I'm busy is something that I'm good at. So is wearing leggings as pants when I'm home alone.

I am over protective of my youngest brother because the world scares me and it doesn't scare him enough. My mother and I get along until it comes down to shoes and scarves.

I wear colored shorts in the summer. Dark skin and country music feel like home. I notice when someone gets a new freckle because I notice that it's the sun giving his or her beautiful shoulders a kiss. I like shoulders.

You tell me I'm beautiful, and sometimes I whisper that into the glass before I leave for the morning. You tell me that you wish you could smell your mother as tears roll down your checks, and I tell you what my mother smells like; Clorox.

I hate the sound of the television when no one is watching, unless I'm falling asleep. The study of mental illnesses fascinates me. Did you know that?

I'm afraid of the future because I'm afraid of failure and decisions. Live music is the best kind of music.

I get goose bumps before I cry. I hold my breath when I get nervous and my fingers shake. If I like the way something feels, I'll run it across my lips, even if it's your hands.

I like when my father comes to church.

Fireworks are a part of me; I was born on the fourth day of the seventh month. You know that if you've ever brought up that day.

I like my hair, but I like hers just a little better. I'll probably touch your hair, if you have any. Also, your shoulders. I like shoulders.

A person’s eyes tell their story, just like their hands and lips do.

I'm here. I'm right down the unfinished staircase.

Enduringly,
M.organ


2 comments:

Addy Baird said...

I love everything about this post. Where do I even start?
Mostly I like the thing about the fourth of July because every time anyone says anything about that you shout, "THAT'S MY BIRTHDAY."

I love you.

Mallory said...

You are such a beautiful writer!

you communicate everything in such a....precious and unique way.

and this post almost brought me to tears. cause it's so good.