Semi-Daily Scribbles

Carving out a corner to post random crap.

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  • Sign


    SignJust turn it off.
    There is no reason to look.
    There is no reward in outlasting the masses
    by standing outside in the rain all day.
    I don’t speak of it, won’t speak of it.
    There is no incentive I can give
    that would make you
    pound down the will
    of those caught in your wake.
    Shake it off and shake loose the rocks.
    It was just a joke to begin with.
    Now it’s ending in misquotes and record sales.
    That’s not applause you’re hearing.
    It’s the sound of reason cracking.
    It’s the sound of empathy breaking.
    It’s the sound of your wayward
    steps leading you further and further
    from the trust you’ve buried away.

    One more reason to walk past
    your face the next time I see it
    hiding behind the caution sign.

  • Quest


    Quest

    Sections of the quest are certainly spent in catching Fortune's eye. To be favored is to be spared the closed door and the ignored call. But the journey is also a lesson in appreciating the trail, and acknowledging the air. This is how we learn. We must continue on even if no one is watching. Especially when no one takes notice. When the way becomes impassable, and the climb was all for naught, only then will the work be ready. Only then will the quest give up its prize.

  • Daring


    DaringIt wasn't the daring act of crossing the globe that troubled Frederick. He needed to leave behind the fractured allegiance and hollow sympathy of his family. They didn't like his artist's heart; he didn't understand their dispassionate love. An ocean divided the generations that sat around the old oak table. No, what brought disquiet upon Frederick's mind was the unshakeable knowing of his diminishing presence. His life was shrinking. He had been doused, and wrung out, and hung up to dry so many times, his skin no longer fit. His ideas had grown too big for his head. It was then that Frederick understood he needed to stretch out, as far and as wide, his remaining days. He had just enough time to get beyond the breakwater and dissolve into the unending gray. Once he lost sight of land, Frederick fought to release the stranglehold he had over his own soul.

  • Challenge


    ChallengeAmelia felt blocked. She was dry as a bone. Nothing was coming, and she was beginning to fear that nothing would ever come her way again. Was bad luck dogging her every step? She couldn’t understand why. She was an adept rule follower, law abider, and dutiful daughter. That had to count for something. Amelia had been so meticulous in her studies. She wasn’t in it for fame or prestige, or an Employee of the Month plaque. She threw herself into learning the Old Ways so she could keep her balance in a world that was constantly bucking her off. No thrill ride, this. It was her craft, her life’s calling, her one and only chance to make a difference. Amelia wasn’t entirely convinced that anyone was actually keeping score. If, however, some big, invisible tallyman were doing his job, she’d be able to prove she was using her time wisely. 

    She couldn’t keep staring up at the full moon forever. A damned decision loomed over Amelia stronger than any gravitational pull. Why choose at all? Why not let every random thought and half-formed idea duke it out until the clearest vision floated to the top? Amelia liked a challenge. It was all one big guessing game whether or not she could get the words right, anyway. She repeated them in preparation for this very moment, but no amount of practice was going to make choosing any less difficult. Amelia was standing at the crossroad. One false move and she’d lose it all. She closed her eyes and hummed softly as a warm wind rippled around her. The air was charged with her hopes and expectations. Amelia noted the taste of metal in her mouth as the wind intensified. Lightning left the sky and stabbed the earth with its jagged white beam. The hillside was struck over and over again until the ground was pockmarked and seeping. Amelia’s feet felt hot as she willed herself to stay rooted to the spot. There was no turning back now. She realized, perhaps too late, that fulfilling one’s potential isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.

  • Risk


    Risk
    Grandpa pelted me with many pearls of wisdom when I was a kid. His lessons and occasional swearing were meant to toughen me up, and prepare me for the rigors of adulthood.

    "Take no guff unless you're giving it."
    "Pigs and pity have a way of digging up what you want kept hidden."
    "Saying yes more often than no is the recipe for an eventful life."
    "Judy, your shit really does stink."
    "To risk nothing is to risk it all."

    Whenever I'd hand out, like Tic Tacs, one of these useful reminders to a classmate, I'd get laughed at, called a freak, or left standing alone at the tetherball court. That hurt, and still rubs me the wrong way. Those were my grandpa's pearls. He didn't hand them over lightly. By taking his words to heart, my life has become full of wonder, and completely open for public viewing. I remain grateful, humble, and hard to mess with. I can only hope my playground peers were given their own gems to protect them out in the unforgiving world.

  • Dangerous


    DangerousConnie was late. Preoccupied, as usual. She had become agitated and forgetful ever since noticing there were more and more starlings getting in her way. They watched her through the kitchen window as she drank her coffee. Starlings marked the time of when she left the house in the morning, and when she returned at night. Those damned wings and beaks even had the gall to stand at the head of the queue waiting for the train. Connie knew the starlings were making fun of her with their secret tapping and scratching language. She, in turn, told the birds what she thought.

    "I'm tired of smearing lipstick all over this pig. The situation is not getting any prettier. It's bad, bad. Dangerous places my mind has been wandering. You fellows want me to leave, is that it? Well, I'm not going anywhere. You hear me? I'm staying right where I…"

    Connie was late. She paid no heed to things like rattling tracks and screaming yellow ribbons. Nothing was going to pull her attention away from them. Especially the arrogant one waiting at the head of the queue.

  • Brave


    Brave

    The brave have gone on ahead
    But not before having tread upon the toughest ground
    Lending voice to the marginalized
    Speaking truth to those who keep power for the powerful
    Never allowing privilege
    To shield the poor from view
    Never allowing tragedy
    To rule the day
    Moving forward in the only way dreamers know
    With conviction, courage, compassion
    And grace
    While forging cooperation with impassioned debate
    Implicitly understanding that we lose the battle
    When the least among us are turned away at the gate
    The brave have gone on ahead
    But their legacy rests
    In our care

  • Spontaneous


    SpontaneousThere was a charge in the air. Slate gray clouds hung low over Bridgeview like mutated steel wool. The air felt stiff and bristly. June and Billy had just pulled through the chicken joint to place their order, when sharp pings and meaty thuds slapped against the roof of the Jeep. The young couple knew their spontaneous decision to elope would make both sets of parents want to kill them. This seemed the better option when June and Billy saw glowing coals the size of Volkswagens come hurtling out of a jagged hole in the sky. Billy’s last words, spoken to a menu board, were "…and don't forget the honey-mustard sauce." June knew in a split second that that would have to serve as her I Do.

  • Detour


    DetourThe old man who owns the convenience store at the end of the block gave me a few words of advice this morning as I dashed in to pick up half-and-half and tampons.

    "If you're just concerned with putting one foot in front of the other," he said, "then it's the detour you'll always want to take. There's no better view and no quicker way to get to where you didn't know you wanted to go." As I thanked him, dropping my change into a cleaned out cat food tin next to the register, I thought about where I could wander with my bag of essentials. Before I realized it, brain tangled up in thoughts of a romantic escape, my feet stopped moving forward. I looked up. Nope, this was not my apartment building. Judging from the scenery, I'd walked several blocks out of my way. That's when the shopkeeper's voice boomed in my head.

    "Funny thing, advice. Always best to ignore what you've been told if you want to get any value from it." I closed my eyes hoping to chase away the riddles, or at least find myself in familiar territory when I opened them. Neither of these things happened, and, to make matters more annoying, it began to rain. Drops turned to splats, which joined up to form sheets, but I did get to read the sign on the building before my glasses fogged up.

    Maps and Atlases for the Traveler Who Intends on Getting Lost

    My feet began to move again, up five steps to a landing, and through a glass paneled door.

  • Map

    Sharon made lists. She made them every morning, including holidays. It was a good idea, really. Sharon thought of the lists as streamlined journaling, her aspirations declared in bullet point form. A typical list would include:

    · Get a Better Paying Job
    · Find A Soul Mate
    · Move to London
    · Fit Into a Size 4


    Map

    The thing about lists, though, is they need to be checked. Not just the act of striking an item from the list with a check mark, but to read the 'Daily To-Do' for clarity and understanding. For example, do the tasks serve as stepping-stones? What is learned by their completion? Is there a theme carried over from list to list? If a better paying job comes along, and wearing skinny jeans becomes the new normal, is this enough? Perhaps the best way to map out a fulfilling life is to focus on the journey, one list-free day at a time.

    So, did Sharon find satisfaction with her check marks and bullet points? Well, she didn't move to London, but she did accept a teaching position in Chattanooga. Her waist has remained the same circumference, which suits Sharon and her new friends just fine.