And right now I am pretending I am a pirate, ten years old with my toes in the sand and a strip of red rag bound round my head.
Where's my curved sword and notch-bladed knife? I can feel their weight in my hands; I know how thei(more)r handles fit my palms as I hack my way through the surprised crew defending their cargo. Where's my ship? The soles of my feet know every board in her decks; I know how she creaks when she leans into the wind.
In Peter Pan, the pirates offer the lost boys a choice - join or die - and the kids turn their noses up and say never! But to heck with that. Come on, Hook, give me the chance. Ask me the question. I'm ready. (less)
takes me on a wild ride
Pretending I am flying down slippery slopes
in precarious positions
engaging sexy sirens and battling brutish beasts
(more) Traveling to distant places, meeting magical kings, classy queens and poised princesses
Pretending I am waking up with you, being a lover with you
being in love
Pretending I am that person
It seems that is reality, pretending I am
that pretending I am is the bridge to becoming
over that bridge to becoming is believing
believing starts with pretending.
Imagination makes the gruel light, sweet and appetizing
"It's that goddang voice that'll git your hide in trouble, Marylee! I fuckin' mean it, cut that shit out NOW!"
Tracy’s ma’s scream was loud enough to be heard from four houses away, bouncing off the corrugated metal and rising above the hum of televisions and banging kitchenwa(more)re
“Girl, if you don’t git back in here and stop acting like so damn fool elf or whatever the shit you think you are, I’m gonna tan your bottom so hard you’ll pray to jesus whiddout me havin’ to tell ya too!”
Ma only brought Jesus and god into conversations when she was mad, real mad, and it was for this reason that Tracy hated to pray—the mention of a deity echoed sore, red skin and hot tears brought on by undeserved punishment. That is why she pretended to be an elf, she once heard ma say that they were the devil’s children, and any enemy of jesus was friend to Tracy.
Most of the time
I'm pretending I'm fine
just in case you're looking
slipping in and out of character
tends to wear you out
even when it looks effortless
(more) breathing comes in handy but
isn't always possible
so fake it when you have to
and count your lucky stars if they're still alive
we didn't all make it out if you recall
remember they wanted it this way
back before they understood that love is a four letter word
it's silly really
when you think about it
the luck of the draw put me here and you there
it was never written in stone
no bones were cast
no devil's bargain or heavenly desire
more like getting sand in your face when the bully runs by
it isn't like you said it would be
I skinned my knees and kept on running
a step ahead is always safer
see I never quite believed it was true
it never is in the long-run
there's a wasteland up ahead as far as the eye can see
my happy-ever-after is buried out back
it was a silly idea anyway
a momentary lapse of judgement was always my downfall
a redundancy in the system
to ensure my demise
to leave me standing alone in every crowd
but there's a tiny spark down deep
it flickers and shines soft and low
for now I keep a low profile
everything's on simmer
and the lights are dim
I'll be in character when the curtain rises
with or without an audience
attendance is optional
and the mix of fact and fiction is too close to call
if I keep pretending I am more likely to see through it all
and still keep walking
one way or the other(less)
Pretending I am wanted. He wanted my number, and my time. Wanted to know what I was up to all the time. Now that I want him and his attention, I'm ignored. Yes, there's an 8 year age difference, but I suppose all men are the same. I'm pretending(more) I am wanted by him, which in reality, its obvious I'm not. It hurts because all I ever think about is him and his contagious laugh. Im also pretending I am ready for this relation ship if he was, he has a 2 year old child, I don't think I'm ready for all of that. But most of all I am pretending that I am okay. I'm not, I want him..but what else can I do, I've told him I want to 'get to know him'..I need to stop pretending I'm wanted(less)
A one-time (at separate times) financial manager, stay-at-home dad, and unemployment-office haunter, Paul can truly appreciate his current morning routine for its uniqueness. As far as he knows, no one else spends his mornings as Paul does. Though how would he know if someone else is--stealth kind of is(more) the point.
The book suggests starting small, a wise move in any new venture, so Paul feels again vindicated in choosing this title over any of the competing ones. This morning, Paul is blending outside his daughter's preschool. He starts by waiting, bundled among the other bundleds, at the bus stop on the closest corner. He lets the numbers 7 and 17 go by, and then he realizes he's fumbled. He gets on the very next bus, gets off at its next stop, walks back toward the school.
As he walks, he shrugs off his puffy coat, peels off the beard, rakes up his hair, and adds square black-rimmed glasses. He enters the hipster-parent coffee shop across the street from the preschool and re-blends with a mug and a borrowed book near the window.
"Don't stay in one place too long," the book cautions. "Even in a place such as a cafe, which some people do spend hours, you'll be noticed. Drink one cup of coffee--maybe one refill--and then move on. Everyday people--those with jobs, with families--have multiple places to be and things to do each day. So, so must you."
Paul replaces the borrowed paperback and heads for the restroom. He locks the door, applies makeup, and puts on a wig and a silk scarf, a long coat, and less sensible shoes. They say that, after a while, married people look alike. Paul hopes so. He crosses the street to wave at his daughter through the schoolhouse window.(less)
Pretending that I am flying free through the big, blue sky is not a dream. It's life. My life. Be free of everything and enjoying things on my time. I soar through the clouds, and dive straight down towards the clear blue ocean but the second before I hit,(more) I straighten out and flew right on top of the water. Life has never been so releasing, freeing so...wonderful.
Forget all the horrible things life throws at us. It's meaningless when you know all you have to do is close your eyes and fly. Fly any where you wish to be. (less)