*taxi

Taxi_88

The girl with the red hair is red in the face. She looks tired, but the normal kind of tired. I haven’t seen her like this for quite a while now. 

“What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” she sighs. 

“You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

“Summer holidays?”

“Can’t believe it’s already August. Time really flies when you’re having fun.”

“Having fun these days, then?”

“No, not really.”

“Not partying, I hope.”

“Yeah. Well, less than before. I actually went to a camp. I don’t even know what it was for. It’s one of those camps where you pay to do nothing and you only join so that you can write it up in some essay when you apply to college. It wasn’t all bad though. I did meet some people. But I’m not good at socialising.”

“Don’t you go to parties and stuff?”

“Party socialising is different. I’m not good at making normal conversations with normal kids, you know. They’re all so…normal. And…yeah. It was bad. I actually felt bad.”

“Talking to normal people?”

“Yeah. It just felt bad. I just didn’t want to talk to anyone. I…really tried hard to talk to people. It’s weird, because I always thought I was an extrovert. But it turns out that I’m really an introvert. But I feel like I have so much to say inside me. Every time I feel like my chest is about to burst when I don’t talk to people talking around me…but I just can’t bring myself to say anything…”

“We all feel like that sometimes. It gets better when you try more and more…”

“It actually feels good to talk, you know. I feel alive every time I talk. I feel like I’m actually doing something substantial. Maybe because it’s the fact that I’m scared of talking sometimes..I guess it might be like - I don’t know - adrenaline rush? You know when you’re scared of something - scared to death, literally - and then you do it? That rush. Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little. Talking to people - it doesn’t feel like dying. Well, generally it doesn’t.” 

***

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I just want to be - irresistible. That’s the word that has been floating in my mind for the past two weeks. Irresistible. I want to be irresistible to every single person I meet, so that I won’t even have to do anything - so that I won’t have to spend so much effort in making good first impressions and good normal conversations. But I guess people are born with it, and it won’t come when you’re older, or even when you’re happier - you either have it or you don’t. Irresistible. Imagine that…but that’s just me having my delusional thoughts as usual.”  

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Ayıptır söylemesi, La Femme adında Fransız bir grup keşfettim. Özellikle de gruptaki hanım kızımız çok sempatik, yerinde duramıyor bismillah!

so I’ve always sort of liked the idea that within the communion of saints there the Heavy Hitters, the Career Saints who are invoked widely and in situations of grave need—I’m talking your Catherines and Francises and Theresas, the Twelve Disciples and Michael; the Big Time Major League saints who intercede on behalf of so many, and so are always in conversation with the divine, case managers for the sick and dying and hurting and faithful of the world.

but that also means that there’s a bunch of saints hanging around who are just—minor holy women, lesser martyrs, incidental virgins, doctors of the church who never managed to find a publisher. They’re not prayed to very often, and rarely called on to manage the difficult cases; they have a lot of free time.

so what do you do, if you’re a saint with some free time on your hands? You answer all the not-quite-prayers, the “jesus, don’t turn red don’t turn red’ muttered by cab drivers and the “christ, can you just try it to see this from my point of view?” spat out by a furious girlfriend and all the “oh god please let me make this meeting in time” “please don’t let me fail” “I’m so tired I hope I can get home”

or maybe I just like the idea that every time you mutter “god, let me be okay” there’s some girl killed in 9th century for refusing to marry who falls into step beside you—and though no book or chronicle or living person remembers her name, she squints up at you and says with holy authority, “yeah, you’re going to be fine.”

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I made a parody intro of pan-pizza​