Ice cream numbs you. Freeze. Yet you feel the taste, all those 31-derful flavors. I need some of it now. A feel good factor that pauses everything else in me. Something that would make me stop thinking. So that, for once, it would be an honest ‘no’ that I give her when she asks me if it hurts.
Thinking is painful.
It is not often that you experience something clutching your navel, making you writhe and giggle at the same time and, absolutely refusing to let go. But once it does, you just need it out of your system. Somehow. And fast. Before it lays its pale pink eggs in that cuckoo nest of yours, called a heart, and makes you ponder and ponder over the cheesiest, incredibly worthless and also, the most beautiful thoughts in the world. Thoughts that make you warm inside. So very pleasantly warm. Then it gets uncomfortable. Perspiration? You have to wipe that sweat off your upper lip, woman. And if those eggs are already laid, that warmth just got them hatching!I don’t want to think anymore. I feel as though someone is squeezing it out of my sponge of a brain. And it hurts.
Those pink things cracked in me alright. And wow. Dozens of little chicken bastards come peeking out! Fatherless, fluffy and ever so adorable! I do not know what I expected. A baby peacock, perhaps? Even though it will never take flight, at least I know it’s pretty. Now all I have are cute little chicks running around inside me, pecking away, torturing my every living moment. What is worse? I love them.
Even after knowing that they are going to end up on his dinner table someday (fried, roasted, grilled- gossiped or factually) and that I am going to watch him devour my babies, my precious feelings, limb by limb, one by one…I still love them.
Oh! Get a grip!
Where is the ice cream? I prefer chocolate.
