seeing stars [open]
Jun 10, 2014 11:16:35 GMT -5
Post by ミSailor彡 on Jun 10, 2014 11:16:35 GMT -5
Emery Layne
17 | District 2 | Female
I run my fingers through my hair. It's wet with sweat but I don't really mind. Is it weird as a female to actually enjoy the act of sweating? It means I'm pushing myself. Sweating purifies me. It rids the poison of the pressure to be the best I constantly hear from my parents. I pressure myself to be the best enough, thank you. I could criticize myself all day without a second thought but the minute someone else does, I shut down. I'd rather not hear it from anyone other than myself. I'm one of the few braving the intense heat radiating from the sun today. I love it. The winter season is what scares me. It becomes five times as hard to sweat unless I've gotten the flu. And I'd rather bypass the inconvenience of that.
It's midday. And while the sun is peaking at the very tip top of the sky, I return to my run. Letting the sweat drip down into my eyes. The salty sting is one I've been used to since the day I was born. I might as well have been born a machine. The little things that do phase me register no emotion across my face. Is that why people say I'm "unapproachable"? Those are the exact kinds of people I don't want to approach me anyway. Better to keep your mouth shut before I shove the words right back down your throat. My brows furrow into a grimace as I push myself to run faster.
wham!
I see stars. How did I end up on my back, staring straight up into that ball of fire in the sky? My fingers trace my forehead to find a huge bump right above my left eyebrow. I feel a searing pain from my temples crawling up to the crown of my head and back down to the nape of my neck. I just lay there for a minute, squeezing my eyes shut as I push on the bump as if I were trying to push it back into my skull. I peek one eye open and examine my fingers, just a bit of blood. I slowly sit up, rubbing the back of my head and feel a streak of blood run into my eye. Now that's a sting that I'm not used to.
I guess that's one way you could consider anger a weakness. Absorbed in my thoughts, I apparently ran straight into a misplaced looking old tree. I stare at the tree as if I hadn't seen it every single day on my normal running trail. "Fuck off, then" I sneer at the tree as I attempt to pick myself up, only leading to me tumbling over back onto my bum. I fling myself back onto my back in frustration and just stare right into the sun. Pouting. Even inanimate objects criticize me.