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Erased
If I went away, would it even be noticed by anyone? If I stopped creating, would it even make a difference on this page? If I left today, would there even be anyone stopping their Sunday? If I said I wasn’t okay, would there even be anyone listening? If I erased everything, would there even be any empty space? If I screamed for help, would there even be anyone at the other end? Is this your case?
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Dear Mr. Potential Ex Man
I knew it as soon as I got in the car. I knew you’d be a friendly chatty guy. “I’ll call you right back, I’ll call you right back,” you said to whomever was on the phone, hanging up at the speed of light. Then, you greeted me with all smiles and that line. “Tell your man you’ll text him back cause you gotta talk to your driver now.” When I heard you say those words, I could read through your game plan. My intuition might’ve failed me terribly at other living times of life, but not now. Most times, I know an interested man (and a player) when I…
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Patterns – You Go!
From the obvious observations diaries, I present to you this tiny piece. When the tide is high, you surf When the current’s low, you swim When the tea is poured, you drink When the bills are due, you pay When the food is served, you eat When your feet are tired, you sit When the feeling’s strong, you love When inspiration strikes, you create When the music is good, you dance When the going gets tough, you vent When life lessons speak, you learn When opportunity knocks, you open When your time comes, you GO. There’s a pattern to everything, whether human-made or by nature. And since I know how…
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Eavesdropping on the M Path
I was on my way home. The worn-out leather seats in the next-to-last coach were comfortable enough to make me tilt my head back and close my eyes for the next three stops. On other occasions, I would not have. But it was all women; moms, schoolgirls, a couple of chit-chatting friends, a tired girl in scrubs (who seemed to have the same idea as me). There were enough of them and enough space among us to make me feel safe. The monotonous breathy voice over the PA system announced the next stop. I opened my eyes, as if to pay better attention. Something about humans thinking we can listen…
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Past and Present Flashbacks
Writing this with my eyes closed, wanting to keep trapped the thoughts that might slip through the cracks when I look away, out in space. Nothing is kind anymore. Not the sound of night, not the air I breathe, not the light I see hurting my eyes like a splash from the salty sea. In my flashbacks, I see the good intentions that failed to be anything but good by those protecting my youth. I would’ve changed some things if only I could. What bothered me then, bothers me no more now. Not more than it should. Painting happy endings. Frustrated that the paint smudges before anything ever gets dry.…
