I walk alone. I walk alone. It's snowing. It's the middle of the winter, and as i try to walk down this road, i'm slipping all over the place. I hate ice. I hate snow. I hate being cold. I keep walking, and i see a couple of broken guitars. I pass my old dance teachers, piano teachers, voice teachers. They look right through me. I walk alone.
I walk alone. I walk alone. I pass by old friends, but they don't see me either. There's snow covered trash everywhere. Snow covered broken down cars. My old guitar teachers are siting in a circle, smoking a joint. Broken windows, peeling paint, covered in snow. My old house. I walk past my old apartment complex, all run down. Completely silent. I think the snow makes it seem quieter. So many people i used to know, but no one sees me. Why?
I walk alone. I walk alone. I see cactus, covered in snow. What an odd picture. Two opposites. I see my old dance studios from Arizona, in desperate need of repairs. There's still dancers inside, but it seems like they're dancing in slow motion, stuck there, but still moving. I walk alone. I walk alone.
The setting of this is so original, and yet so simple. Great and yet sad story. I like it!
ReplyDeleteI like how sad this is. You are very good at creating imagery.
ReplyDeletei didn't even read the whole thing. but i could tell what you love in this, cause you are telling everything that you would hate seeing. so i just look for the opposite. good writing.
ReplyDeleteits hard for me to read everything, its the way that your font is.
ReplyDelete