It’s a paper town. Streets that turn in on themselves. Houses that were built to fall apart. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. Do they care about anything that really matters?
Have you ever looked at the sky for so long that you felt if you look down you will see that you are floating? Just a paper girl floating over a paper town. It is so easy to forget that the world is bursting with people. So many people. Our roots must be connected. Shouldn’t we then tremble at the same things? Tremble with indignation, with passion? Why are people bothered so little, about so little? Care so less, about so less. Why do people love windows but are afraid of mirrors? Afraid of looking up close and noticing the rust, the paint cracking?
All the people living their paper lives, drinking beer bought from a paper convenience store. Don’t you want to be a miracle, an adventure? Feel everything a little too much? What story did you read today? What did you add to your own story? Did you laugh so hard, did it hurt so bad? Did you wish to grow up a little before you radically re-shape the world? Where are the dreamers, the mess makers, the over-sharers, the shy warriors? Always loving, loving, loving. Never leaving. Holding the strings back together again with resilience that shatters and kindness that sits at the eye of the storm?
Maybe its a character flaw, but for me its a congenital one. I can’t shy away from the basest of all possible emotions, be a watertight vessel, not talk about things that matter, talk too much. I spill through my cracks, I burst and I am fairly embarrassed about it from time to time. But if it rains inside me, how can my outside be just scattered showers? I love the depth, the heart on the sleeves, the complexity of the world, the simplicity of being human. There has to be more to life. So, one day I will right a lot of wrongs, and wrong some rights. I will leave this paper town and I hope so shall you with me.