Monday, October 3, 2011

with lips and teeth to ask how my day went



Sometimes I stand on my tiptoes because I think that someone will take me more seriously if I'm an inch taller. 

But then nobody takes me seriously. Because I'm standing on my tiptoes for no apparent reason, other than I'm short, and I'm trying to force you to understand that I'm not joking, this time.

I'm usually joking. Because it's easier to. I'm bad at taking other people seriously, so why should I expect anyone to take me seriously?

This post is almost joking. I can't make it sound like I'm really wounded by anything. I cry a lot, but I laugh even more. I laugh softly and I laugh viciously, I laugh at the wrong time and I laugh when I try not to and I laugh at everyone else, at least I'm good at laughing at myself.

No, I don't take myself seriously.

Sometimes I take not taking myself seriously too seriously.

I stand on my tiptoes, though. Trying to force you not to laugh. "I'm not joking", but I am. "I'm serious", but I am not.






"On October 3rd he asked me what day it was." 
"It's October 3rd."
-Avery Jalaine

  

2 comments:

  1. Remember how if you stand on your tiptoes you can almost make it to 5'4"?

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  2. Boots and fists to pound on the pavement.

    Haven't been on blogger in some time, though it's funny you should ask because I just caught up on all your posts yesterday. (Yep. Still in love with this blog.)
    I spend a lot of time on Twitter, though. (@Zombie_Girrrl. I'll probably never have another screen name as long as I live. It makes me sort of sad.)
    Thanks for asking. :)

    I don't know precisely why--maybe it was because I was very short for my age, though I finally became full-sized when I turned 15--but I used to walk around everywhere on tiptoe. My achilles tendons were like steel cables.

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Oh thanks. You're pretty.