The red vase on grandpa’s head
I’m a huge red vase about to fall off grandpa’s head, but they politely work their way around it. Let’s not make an issue out of that dramatic vase on grandpa’s head. All is good, dear. Always. Don’t paint your face so white, dear, people find it very strange. See? How everyone looks normal and you look like a ghost? See? Oh, your nose is too big for your face. We might have to do something about it. Have you gone to all your sessions this month? Don’t miss the sessions, darling, they’re extremely important for you. For us all, really. You don’t want to be a hassle, do you? Oh, here comes Lora! Hi Lora! Hiiii!!! Well, go on then. Be nice. Try to find some friends, it’s not that hard. You make everything seem so difficult, dear, you exhaust me. Let go of my dress now. Let go already, you’re embarrassing me… Go along now, go along.
And the red vase still stands on grandpa’s head:
with another small, nearly unnoticed crack;
with another layer of paint that hides its true color;
and a new, silver scale on its armor.
But cheer up, hun. Because – you know – f**k them.
Oh, no! She cursed! Oh, nooooooo, naughty, naughty, naughty, anger, pain, creation.
Scratch a spot and create something new with those beautiful, true colors of yours.
It’s not my own private story. The person it’s about is a part of my soul, and that’s close enough.
MUCH LOVE! <3