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I went to a grocery store the other day for some
apples.
Green grocer glared at me through narrowed eyes.
Even the grocer. Ouch.
Risk being ostracized and you will lose.
Hard lesson, isn't it?
No choice, really.
No matter.
Thus, I sit from my vantage point
playing sour grapes
munching bitterfruit and spitting out the seeds at the
society below. No apples for me. I'm not nibbling at any
ripe red Washington. No Fuji. Not even Granny Smith.
No way, no how.
I have my armor, though. My wall, my armor - ahh!!
How it shields me!
distance myself from their spears and swords and sit out
far, so as to mock them. I can throw all the DayRunners I want
at the little fools.
But I am still alone.
It is still me up here, in the stratosphere of her own mind
watching, waiting...
For what? "Risk being ostracized and you'll
lose," remember?
Right. Can't forget that.
I've paid the price for my independence.
And so I turn away and I down the coarse seeds of
freedom with
swallows of nectar from my wounded heart, the two
alternatingly burning and slicing my
throat as they wind through my esophagus, as laughs of
madness fly forth from my cords,
rising...rising...RISING in pitch until my lips
drip with the flush red potion that is
my lifeblood.
And I grin at the grocer through crimson-stained
teeth,
"How do you like them apples?"
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