Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Beginnings
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May 11th, 1996 was the day we met. Me in purple velvet bell bottoms bought at The Potter's House and a little, lacy cami (a doily, really) to cover the upper bits. You in lederhosen and a grey t-shirt with the name Stuckey's stamped in red letters across the chest. A downpour, a shallow stoop,…
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words held,thoughts on pause.scribbles must sit still…for now.started a new job.
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A quick minute.A long moment.A pause that lasts forever. Phrases to set one's teeth on edge as the meaning of time gets lost in a multitude of interpretations. How many versions of reality play out between the beats of thought and action? To think is to do is to suffer from stage fright from cradle…
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Keeping up old habits is an exhausting task. There must be some worthwhile gain in the game of self-sabotage or it wouldn't be such a popular sport. The mirror I hold in front of me is a grimy, broken lens through which images scream to be noticed. Relinquish all sense of specialness; everyone is a…
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a happy fall is the best kind of fall since it takes a leap and a prayer to get anywhere so best to dive in and let go of the fear of actually succeeding in one's chosen career
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Maia stood in line at the Bean & Book, mug brought from home in one hand, thumb of the other tucked inside the waistband of her jeans. She tugged on the denim so it wouldn't rub against the rash on her belly. Dairy products gave Maia hives, but milky, sugar-packed and pumpkin-spiced coffee was her…
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Call it diligence, call it indulgence. There's just no other way to tame the ticking clock on the wall but to challenge Time's very existence. Ask a passing minute what its purpose is. It'll say: "To keep you in line." But it won't offer any personal information, like how it's stretchy and absorbent and doesn't…
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Maia examined the shiny face in the bathroom mirror. She didn't look like she thought she ought to on her first day of work. First day of work anywhere. Ever. Instead of a composed professional heading out the door, Maia saw a scared 14-year-old dressed up in clothes she stole from her mother's closet. A…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 