I Was Tired And Wrote This Very Messily Into My Notebook - Tumblr Posts

You tell me pristine is perfect.

And I'm miswriting and misinterpreting a line in a poem I don't truly understand.

But pristine isn't perfect.

Untouched (unused), unmarked (unloved).

Pristine is just that.

Pure and unsullied.

Unappreciated and unwanted.

Read my stupid stories again and then read Pristine by Hilda Raz. I'm in love with the line "You tell me the word pristine was perfect" but I don't think it has the same meaning to me as it had to her when she wrote it.

Pristine means untouched, unspoiled, or otherwise spotless. But that has never put a good feeling in my mouth. All I see when I buy something new is an item that has yet to have been loved, and after loving it, it will change into something that I have left a mark upon. The idea that pristine means perfect (I know I'm misquoting but I don't care) is so strange to me. Pristine means something that isn't cared enough about to be worn, or to be used. Like a trophy on a shelf more than an item that you genuinely value.

Anyways that's why I am very rough on shoes when I first get them. I hate it when they're all like right off the shelf and unmarked or anything.

(also I wrote a short poem about it that I will post when I get around to it)