Hello I’m Emma, most of us have never been formally introduced. I am a young writer that likes to ponder social norms and the subtle casualties if every day. I have two older brothers a nephew and a sister in law to be. I dance, a lot. I do mostly ballet pointe and jazz. I am scared of rejection because I know it sucks. And my favorite Ben and Jerry’s ice cream is chunky monkey. It was nice meeting you; have a lovely morning\night wherever you are.
I sit on the swing that my father made for me, when I was a tot. I was always a bit nervous the sad branch that held me would snap. But I just swung. I tipped my head back closed my eyes and swung. It felt so light almost hollow. I was no longer afraid of the sad little branch giving up on me. I was on a raft floating in the middle of the ocean and I wasn’t worried. I opened my eyes, I was in my yard on an old swing, and I got off because I was afraid the branch would break.
oh my gosh, when rain falls hard; really hard. The kind of rain that starts off quiet and soft and then it builds and builds until there is a steady heartbeat of rain, hitting the pavement you’re watching from your classroom window. Oh but it’s not over yet, the rain keeps building into a crescendo of madness. The drops of water are hitting the ground so ferociously you fear that they are angry. You can feel the vibration of the ground from your toes to your chest. Finally with heavy tree branches sagging and the pavement wet and pommeled it all comes to a stop. The sky is so mercurial, it is frustrating and fascinating at the same time.
“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost.”
It’s weird, crying I mean. I could just be crying because I had a bad day and end up balling my eyes out about the boy I “fell in love” with in the 3rd grade. I guess when the flood gates open, I just have to empty myself out. Until I can’t think of anything else to be sad about. Then you take a deep breath and go off to find more sad things.
The name Emma in most cultures means universal or whole. This is strange because recently I have been feeling so small and meek. It’s almost like I’m standing on a tight rope above an abyss, the wind is blowing tenaciously; and all I can do is hold on for dear life. I can’t go back to where I started and I can’t get where I want to go because I’m so scared of falling into the unknown. I am just perpetually stuck in the middle of this tight rope, holding on for dear life.
Why do people dress up to go the the movies; you’re sitting in a dark room with a bunch of strangers.
Nymphs give me kisses,
Brushing against my knees and shoulders.
I become intoxicated by the faint lull of the tulips.
I breathe their lullaby in through my nose as it floods into my ears.
I am overcome with the beauty of their sound,
So subtle and so pure.
The sun winks at me and strokes my cheek,
Giving the whole afternoon a faint glow.
I look at vines, that climb high up the walls,
And I swear I can see them grow.
Why do the try so hard to grow,
Where, O where, do they have to go?