Girl Half Empty

//What an odd thing a diary is: the things you omit are more important than those you put in//
- Simone de Beauvoir
/June winner of the diary competition/


41. //Seems everything around here Stays like stone Seems it's about time darling About time we let this all go//

17th November

The bus bears me home in a puddle of people and wet rain coats. Past the flats where the wind lurks around the letter boxes and kicks deflating footballs in and out of the drains. Past the new-build estate which still has the look of a TV set or an unpainted doll. The grass isn’t real yet in the gardens and the houses are alien in their lack of history – fully formed but featureless. Past the fields and fields that seem flat beneath the sky. Past the edges of town where there’s a broken fridge left out on the drive, mouth open to the heavens. We’re all so hideously human.

All I can think about is how shattering the beauty of this sunset would be if it were more than just this drop of syrup, seeping through the fraying hole in the clouds. And all I can think is how shattering out beauty would be if we could all stop believing that life is a complaints competition. If we all stopped clamouring for compensation and consolation and confirmation. If we built relationships on shared interest not shared hate. If we took a good look and realised bitterness doesn’t get up and leave until it’s told to.

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