Little, Big Love



Dear Nixie,

Lock me away. Put me behind glass. Take away my potential. Do not let me free. I must never be close to a barrel. I am so much bigger than small. I am hard, cold and sad. I am not meant for children. I bare nothing grand. I bare nothing to be proud of. I am a clone. I am the same in every terrible way possible as the others that lie beside me in useless box of death. I do not wish to exist for many of the reasons I was made for. I cannot teach children. I am not patriotic because I just don’t care. I do not have a brain. I cannot change my mind. I am not brave. I am not a guardian. Please stop me, please do because I sure as hell can’t.

Not Yours,

Mr Deadly Bullet.

Mr Bullet,

Do NOT call me Dear you nasty good for nothing killer. If only it were up to me. If only it were. Make love not war. Imagine, dream, make memories (even if it’s a cliché) Plant good seeds. Smile, dance, connect, wrap yourself in life. Make art, write, play sport (though I’ll maybe stay away from the sport since I’m shite in that area). Do not live in fear (unless it’s the fear of being forced to play volley ball in the rain when you’re really shite at it on a Friday afternoon when you would prefer drawing pictures at school or dancing to beautiful music). Oh sorry I digress, yes, well children should have more autonomy to choose what they do to alleviate such fears but that’s another topic altogether (or is it? Everything ties together in making happy children and adults). Do not bare one flag, paint one beautiful flag for the world and let it be painted new every day with more ideas, new ways and new enlightenment. Share, understand, apologize and forgive where possible. I know you can’t do that Deadly Bullet. If only it were up to me. When small is big for all the wrong reasons, I only wish that this tiny lady might have the bigger potential than you do to have an impact because death is just so big and so very very sad.  I suppose there’s not much I can do, though I have tried in my own rather tiny kinda way. Part of the trouble is that sometimes Tiny people don’t hanker for Big prizes, like a million dollar smile and money talks, money makes the world go round. You’re part of that money wheel now Mr Bullet. You’re part of the greed. You’re part of the disease of power and hate or you’re just a whole big dam box of sadness.

Not yours either,


Nicla.

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