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Freezing Warm Sunday Morning
Warm Sunday morning. 11:11 on the clock. Been sitting here since nine sharp. Why can’t I get up, I wonder, as if it doesn’t happen enough times for me to know freezing like this is no surprise. The fatigue of a long past week condensed all at once. I subconsciously try making the feeling of calmness last. And the transition from waking to rising takes its time, it plays by ear, so accordingly I hold back. It’s the reflection of the sun through the blinds that I can’t stop looking at, displayed on the white ceiling like an art installation, is it not? And the ceiling fan spinning nonstop on…
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Hustle, bustle, and in-betweens
Life is but hustle and bustle sometimes so in the in betweens I find distraction a shooting star, a deep inhale walk for ten miles and then exhale The dazzling light of the city attracts me like a moth east or west, poetry is a sunset, art the subtle contrast against the dark triggers my mind, it picks me up We like what we like, no matter how odd these “meaningless” bits of life, our routines hold our pieces together ’til a new sunrise arrives.
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It takes a village to live
Trying to make a point while eating chicken wings doesn’t make it as serious as it should be. But I am serious about what I write today because thoughts have been burning my mind. Trying so hard just te be happy — goddarnit. We all are. But sometimes you wonder why you can’t just get all you want. This kid I teach inspired me. He told me about his dog and how quick his family was to pull the plug. I get it; he does not. Dog was incurable, needed to be put down. “They should’ve let him die naturally,” he said. And deep down I knew exactly what he…
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Ups, Downs and The In-Betweens
Nothing worse to a writer than meeting blank pages on the daily and not meeting the rhymes or the lines she dreamt of on the night before the dark ages. The past year was one of my best writing years and it got me thinking; what the hell, Universe? How can a year that breaks you so stand out like a sword? I get it but I don’t. Still navigating my field and the feels, so old yet so real, and so new to getting used to my truth. Going through the highs and the lows, or should I say the blues of living your truth, which sometimes won’t add…
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And Just Like That, March
One morning, I blinked and reality wasn’t any longer. “Fourteen days,” I was told. An early Spring break…I couldn’t be mad about that. But just a little over the due Spring break and we’d all be back. Would it be like going back to normal? I was sure of that. Looking at a room full of confused little gazes and wobbly little hands waving on their way out, I wondered, too, “Is this how we say goodbye?” I missed them not. Sleeping in for days was the life. Mid-March led the way. Waking up alone every day soon made no sense. And so was a new calendar that had no…
