Monday, October 05, 2009
Perhaps Charlene was right about impending doom.
I noticed pooh seated next to the washing machine, clean from its most recent bath. It was smiling still, even with the brand new scar slashed across its forehead. i know what you're thinking. another wound indeed. the white cotton insides were exposed and the skin around the area was crying out to be stitched back together again. pooh has had enough wounds and stitches for a 12 year old. i had just given it good stitches on its chest and leg last week and now its head is torn. what a sight to return home to after a painful day. when i hugged it today it seemed to have shrunk from when i was 5. i need to wrap pooh in plastic, so i can keep it clean without having to painfully send it to the wash, knowing it'll just come back to me with even more cuts and wounds. yet even with the countless stitches on its back, limbs and head, pooh still smiles. not the same smile though. the right side of its mouth droops now, which reminds me, i havent sewn that part back. nevertheless, it's a smile. it's strange how pooh always evokes such thoughts in me. because i am reminded of the harsh reality of how the most beautiful disguises will never be decoded by those who look but do not see.
Yes used to get whatever I wanted. they either came easy, or i'd fight till i had my way. but why does everything slip by me now? is it merely a case of clumsy hands or the problem of a lack of spirit? because ever since i bore my soul to the winds it never came back.
It's a beautiful disguise.