It's a bright star, it's a supernova, is the beauty surrounding the untouchable core; a magnolia on a tree, the petals falling gently, slowly, dying. It's the branches that are left that were ground down into the star's chillydark . All is the universe and the universe is all. It's the depth of the self that…
i·den·ti·ty
i·den·ti·ty ˌīˈden(t)ədē/ noun 1. the fact of being who or what a person or thing is. fact fakt noun a thing that is indisputably the case. I stripped away the signifiers: the jobs and the casual hobbies, now. I eliminated the actions, the reactions, the upbringing and the places which I called home. I scraped…
Gone.
I wanted my friends to think I was cooler and just like them. I wanted the boy I liked to know that I liked him, without actually saying anything (because that one time I said something, it was humiliating. Never again.) I wanted people to think I was important, because when I tried to stand…
Tea for One
I make a cup of tea. I have to heat the water in the microwave because there's no kettle, but I make a cup of tea. For the casual office worker, throwing a Lipton into seaming water will suffice, but I was raised differently and this just isn't a cup of tea. It's Yorkshire tea.…
How Mortals (Some, Few) Travel
Flying is not limited to those who only have wings. It is not for the elite. It is not for pilots, air hostesses, co-pilots and the curious and frivolously wealthy, who have more time than us mere mortals. How are they the ones who are able to transcend space and time, hop into a Tardis…
Books.
I read like a crazy person when I was little; my parents would yell at me to get outside and get some exercise. I tried to hide in my room in read, partially mortified by life (I was a teenager, after all) and partially just wanting to live in Laura Ingalls' more romantic and beautiful…
Writer’s Block and an Apostle
I still sleep wearing earplugs, but it's the habitual practice of a light sleeper, not the need to drown out the noise, shut out the excitement and anger and stress and the going, going, going... Despite the little blue pieces of foam, I can still hear the morning's birdsong and occasional footsteps going up and…
Just a Dream (?)
She was walking with the others called to march up the stairs to sky-high blue seating, industrial and unapologetic in its upholstered shroud. Everything was the same dirty water shade of blue, and under her feet the hastily prepared metal steps sounded their alarm. This meeting was not normal. This day was not normal. She…
Weight of Those Words
I deal in words. Stupid statement, I know, but I am fascinated by the way that one can be totally and utterly precise with language even in today's age of texting "call u l8" which, admittedly, I only text my mom because she has an old, smaller phone and brevity is key. In speech and…
Walking and Writing
When I started to be more flexible regarding my writing - I don't have to post every day or stick to a theme - it became more authentic. I write about what I see, what I think and what I am experiencing, which is a range of anything and everything. Clearly, I have a filter because…
Time's Thievish Progress 