We Shall SoarSparkler Post
I’m staring at the ceiling. I don’t know how long I’ve been staring, but it must’ve been for some time. Now, am I staring at the ceiling, or just looking past it? I think I’m looking past it. I don’t know what I’m looking at really, am I trying to find something, or am I wishing? Wishing for what? I don’t know. My mind is empty, so I stare. I stare so maybe I can think of something; maybe I’ll have some thought that will change my life. Not likely… Why am I crying? I’ve probably held my eyes open too long, probably. I can’t close them; I don’t want to, I’m afraid. Will I see again if I close my eyes? Maybe that’s why I’m staring, maybe it’s because I don’t want to miss anything, but I’m staring at the ceiling, or looking past it. What’s past the ceiling? I’ve seen the janitor go up there once, it was really dark and there were wires. Wires. That’s past the ceiling. What’s past the wires? More rooms? More people staring at the ceiling? I don’t know. I might never know, because I’m just staring at the ceiling, or past it.
Seriously, what the hell am I doing? If someone knows, please don’t hesitate to tell me. Make me stop staring; I don’t think I can stop staring at the ceiling, or past it. My legs hurt. Am I standing? I think I’m standing. When did I start standing? Really, how long have I been doing this? I don’t know, but I keep staring at the ceiling, or past it. What’s past the wires and the rooms and the roof? The sky is past all that I think. Clouds, airplanes, helicopters. And birds. I’m jealous of the birds. I wish I could fly, but I’m stuck here. I’m stuck on the ground. I’m so terribly jealous of the birds. More tears? Maybe that’s why I’m crying. Maybe I’m just so terribly jealous of the birds past the ceiling. I want to tear down that ceiling. I want to tear it down so I can see the wires. I want to cut the wires and break whatever is attached to them. I want to break through. I want to go to the other rooms with more people staring. Staring at the ceiling, or past the ceiling at the wires and birds. I want wings. I want wings so I can glide beautifully through the air. I want to fly through the clouds and make the people below the ceilings jealous of me. I want them to look at me and make them want to break down ceilings, cut wires, bust into new rooms at more people staring.
I want to make the whole world stop staring. I want the whole world to grow wings and fly. I’m not staring anymore. I will never stare again. Everyone in the room is staring at me, staring at me standing and crying, staring at the ceiling. I look at all of them staring. I was in history class. The teacher is staring at me too. Yes, stare at me. Look at me.
I look at my desk, but I don’t stare. I take it and throw it at the ceiling. I will never stare again.
I will fly... and everyone with me shall soar.
Originally published on January 20, 2014.