So I have a lot of little oneshots that I just kinda write when I'm bored, and some of them aren't that great, but I feel like I'm not being fair to them if I don't publish them. im so weird. they range from reverse falls to maybe the occasional crossover, to dipper just being a total dork around Wendy, but here they are, so enjoy!

Mabel's POV

I love it when the world floats away. When my mind is brighter than the sun.. When I can't even see how far the horizon goes. Humans love being small. We love the fact that at any moment everything can fall apart. We spend our lives replicating this feeling over and over. Concerts. The Grand Canyon. Woodstock. Astronauts. Everything. When I sing, everything just floats away. Chaos Chaos's West Side is playing as loud as it physically can and I'm singing so loud that I've scared away four gnomes. The woods are mine. I'm the only one here, and my voice carries through the leaves like I'm a goddess. I love singing like I'm the only one alive. Maybe I am the only one alive. Maybe the whole world is dead and they just forgot me here, in the faded woods. My T shirt stinks, and I know I'm sweaty and dirty, but sometimes you just gotta throw your hands up and say what the hell. "What the hell!" I giggle so hard I can't breathe.

I'm alone.

I'm happy.

My whole world is controlled by parents and divorces and friends who pretend to care! I'm sick of it, and I'm taking it back! I'm taking frekain' taking it back, Y'know? It's mine. That's what Wendy says, and she's right. Shes fuckin right. " IT'S MINE!" I yell and then collapse into the grass into a fit of giggles. Being free and being high are not two very different feelings.

But I'm not high. I'm just Mabel. Hippie, free, Mabel. Firey, beautiful Mabel. Beautiful. I will wear tie due shirts and cargo pants if I want. My dreamcatcher earrings are tangled in my hair and I don't care. Let them tangle themselves until they fall.

My eyes are looking too far away.

I am who I want to be. I am who I rely on to be who I am. Shouldn't we all be that way? I stare at the clouds. How does the sky stay so calm while life lives and dies and burns? Does it love us? Can it love us for all the horrible things we do? Or is it simply a collection of gases and I'm a spacey girl who's lying in the grass wondering about the sky. I'm crazy and I know that it's true. Let me be crazy. I love so crazy and I live so crazy and I fall so hard. But when we fall hard, we have to get up right? We have to get up and see our happiness. It really is ours. I wish Dipper could know that.

I smile, and imagine the clouds reflecting in my eyes. Everything will be okay. Lying or not, it works.

I stare at the sky until fall asleep.