Don’t you miss the days things weren’t just ok, they were good?
And, just like that it feels like I’ve known you forever.
For all the Wooden Boxes in the Sea
So let me get this straight, you’re asking me to bottle my heart, my emotions, currently in an open mess; tie them up neatly, into a tight knit ball. Place my heart, now in a tight knit ball, into a wooden box and chuck said box into the sea.
But, one day that box is gonna hit a rock and that tight knit ball is going to unravel out my heart, which is going to come exploding out, bubbling forth, causing waves and ripples you never knew could exist.
Will you be ready for that day?
Excerpts and Rough Drafts
He stood, with the mike in his hand, eyes slowly shifting up, landing upon her, gazing at her – she dressed in creamy beige, calm glory. Him, eyes completely content.
Let me tell you about the first time I met my wife. It’s not the time she’s thinking of. It was seven years earlier. She doesn’t know about this time; lord help me. It was 2015. I was at Dynamite with my friends, looking for a shirt for my brother’s girlfriend. The boys, of course, all complaining – why can’t you buy her socks? Nike shoes? Yo, did you see the new Airs?
She was with her girls, two girls. I knew they were her girls, they’re here in the crowd today. Shout out to our loves, N and N. Drake played, in the background, “Know Yourself” (sorry if that insults anyone). The song started – she started while her friends were looking through racks of clothes. She was leading – as usual, oblivious about how contagious she continues to be. Her head started bobbing, her hands started moving, she started giggling. And, I began witnessing the Carlton move, on repeat. Her moves were infectious. Her friends, laughed outright, and like a wave, started imitating her. Next thing I knew, the retail workers started smiling; they started bobbing; their hands started moving – swaying from side to side. She, all the while giggling, oblivious to everyone around her, to the night club she’d started. She was just so clearly happy to see people moving. She was just so clearly happy to see people smiling. She was just so clearly happy to see people — free. In one minute, she’d turned Dynamite, the store for the business professional, into the hottest, goofiest, most bizarre store on the block. And, I, paused, stunned, young, and I prayed. Let me know a soul like hers…. #to be continued #hopeslive.
Writes – 82 and Counting
You know when you smell summer in the air – briefly. Then it fades back to spring. Just did that, and it was beautiful, and that I can call it beautiful is even more beautiful.
Circles and Stuff
When you surround yourself with true love, love returns to you.
Her Spirit’s a Free Bird
Don’t know why, but it’s Feb 10, and it finally, finally feels like she can go back. Like she can be in a dream again. Like she can see the imprints of stars in the sky again; like she wants to breathe in the rain again. Airy rain. Dirt rain. Delicate, dense rain. Like, like, like, like… again home belongs in her heart.
Her home is plaited with others’ needs, with the wants of simplicity; simpler times. And, her gift is her heart to you. Because, innocence is all she clings to and, honestly, it’s all she understands. Complexity complicates her mind.
She sees the dirt. She feels, oh, she feels the dirt in her hands again. She’s drowning light in the moment again. Every sensory delight arriving – finally arriving.
P.S. Please don’t step on her gift again; please don’t cage her again.
Because, P.S. Her spirit’s a free bird again.
She Said Something
She said this, and I just stared, like really?
But, secretly, I hoped too.
“I don’t who he is. I haven’t met him yet, but I know he’s out there somewhere and I know I’ll know him one day. He’s arriving, or maybe I am. But, I do hope he’s doing alright. I hope he’s making moves forward, step by step. I hope he knows I’m here too and that one day, as we keep putting one foot in front of the other, our feet will finally touch. We’ll do that beginning thing, we’ll finally meet.”
It’s a Navy Blue Now
Things seem okay when you see purple fading into blue. And, things seem okay when at 79 km/h, with two windows down, the wind blowing in your face, and the volume at 25, you drive down the freeway across 160th where on both sides of your car are rolling, green hills, graced with crystal blue mountains in the background and, of course, the purple fading into blue. Within these two minutes though, the purple-blue binary has edged into a pink hue that seizes the sky just before the sunset. And as you surmount the slope with this scene fading behind you, you feel like maybe, just maybe you can take on what’s next — I said maybe. And having seen that scene, past your shoulders now, you’re brought out of your daydreams, your getaways from anxiety, and plunged into these thoughts. Mild thoughts about your surroundings, about the sky, about the mountain that seemed to say slow down and look at me, smile at me, please. About the grass that defined green, and about the faded outline of the moon sneaking in, convincing you that thoughts about how moments may be turning into memories before your eyes are not welcome. You come home, swing the door open, earphones in (also at full volume), and you type this. And before closing this, there’s already an ache in your heart that’s not tired, but eager to go back to writing about “mercantile operations.” When you see purple fade into blue, every tasteful memory comes to the fore of your lips and manifests into a smile and a joy that’s mild, just like that fade from purple into blue.
Just Typing 