I'll offer to entertain. Maybe slake a thirst you didn't know you had. Come sit beside me and let's repeat all those first time feelings they say can never flow through us again. If we're going to chase down a dream, Hope says the impossible is as good a goal as any.
Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
recent posts
about
-
-
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 star in this rotating galaxy. Is this how community is formed? Hot spots that carom off each other in search of the deep and meaningful? We've all been exiled to the village of individuality. -
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 -
This snapshot titled "Hallucination" thumbs its nose at my whole #AmPresent vibe. It's not Christmas today, which is the point of my daily photographic reminders, i.e.: Here I am, smack-dab in the middle of having a moment and not I am ignoring the present to obsess over future events. Any oddball item or chance meeting can easily become the subject of a photo. I make an effort to connect with what is happening, inside and outside of me, as I take a picture of a leaf, dogs on a leash, broken glass, or a perfectly ripe tomato. String these objects together and life goes on for another day. And those days add up. It'll be Christmas before too long, but there's no room in my October moment for December things. -
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 ultimate autumn weakness. Fake milk turned the whole experience into a total letdown, so Maia was careful not to drown herself in her seasonal poison of choice. She shuffled forward without thinking until her nose was an inch away from the dark blue suit in front of her. Maia's index finger kept her thumb company inside the waistband. The door opened and leaves rode the chilly gust. Heads swiveled, coughs were muffled, a throat was cleared. Orange and brown leaves floated to the scuffed tile floor."Uh, hello. Aren't you Maia Towey?" Maia's back stiffened and she pulled her fingers out of her pants. She looked up at the tanned, stubble-free face that stood in line behind her. Maia considered her options. She wondered how weird it'd be if she didn't answer.
"I haven't been called that in a long time," Maia finally said to the man who blew in with the wind.
-
"Memories are sneak thieves. Pity the spirit that believes a single one of them."
Darla remembered a withered face with kind eyes that spoke those words to her when she was in a bad way. Not so much a down-on-her-luck way, but more in an oblivion-has-come-to-pay-a-visit type of situation. Most occurrences older than a few weeks, in Darla Varney's experience, were sketchy recollections that may not have happened at all. Maybe they did happen, but not to her. Perhaps she'd just been swept up in the excitement of a stranger's dream. Darla knew stories could be tried on for size and didn't have to belong to her or anybody. But back to the point: Darla wasn't very good at holding on to people/places/things she encountered in the past. There were, however, three exceptions:
1. The Prairie View Drive-In — Home of the Biggest Swap Meet in the Quad County Region.
2. Morton Abernathy
3. That withered face with kind eyes, a woman's as far as Darla could figure, who was more than likely Death (even though the old lady didn't come right out and say so.)Such were the stars in Darla's vast midnight sky by which she navigated. She was lost without them. Darla was lost even with the three exceptions in her life, but at least she was part of a larger community outside of her head.
-
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 stick to a straight path (or answer.) Time is a wheel (and that's sort of a big deal.) So much of what we do we've already done. Been there, done that. Again and again and again.Aren't we tired yet?
-
controlled cowardice
a maligned blank stone says so
fate rocks me to sleep -
There are always "What if…?" moments. Some scenarios are simple; take a walk instead of a nap. Stay an extra ten minutes at work. Grab coffee with someone you haven't seen in a while vs. stay home with the TV for
company. These seemingly disparate pieces of everyday life are like champagne bubbles. They'll gather, gain strength, and pop whatever proposition lay hidden in the bushes ready to pounce. It's all on you what happens next, but don't go and cause trouble with giant, cuvée-swilling tabby cats. As if.
Can we ever know for sure what is really, truly meant to be?
-
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 trickle of tear mixed with drugstore mascara left a skid mark on her cheek. Maia wasn't crying, but she definitely was not happy about every pore, duct, and orifice secreting vital life essence. She was sure her last ounce of luck had been sweated out her left armpit. Another shower would put her back in the game, but Maia didn't have the time. Not anymore, anyway. At 37, Maia couldn't remember what she did with the last decade. She'd be more careful with her months and years from now on. Starting with today. At least today would be different.
Semi-Daily Scribbles 