It’s a Navy Blue Now

Things seem okay when you see purple fading into blue. And, things seem okay when at 90 km/h, with two windows down, the wind blowing in your face, and the volume at 35, you drive down the freeway across 160th where on both sides of you are rolling, green hills, graced with a background of crystal blue mountains 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 your car climbs the slope, 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. Mild thoughts about your surroundings, about the world around you, about the sky, about the mountain that seemed to say slow down, look at me, smile at me — please. Thoughts about the grass that defined teal, 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, manifesting a smile, a joy that’s again mild, just like that fade from purple into blue.

The moment I realized that I’m not here to impress anyone – like you, or maybe unlike you, I’m just a humble resident on this earth who’s making their mark in minuscule or communally colossal ways, my high-pitched, trepid and filler infused, stuttering voice became deeper, my back stood straight, and my eyes faced forwards. The moment I realized that I’m not here to impress anyone, I started doing me. I looked at the crowd and took one second for myself to think “So this is living, huh? Being here to not impress because my being here is not necessarily impressive enough, but it is impressive.” And then, I spoke.

You know that feeling of forgetting what it’s like to feel anything? Then, being afraid, convincing yourself that your inability to feel means you must be debased? No tears; just a never ending gulf of air in your lungs making breath torturous. That is, of course, until someone says something that makes you uneasy; something that makes you quesy, and like a sly needle to a “I’m in my happy place that deals with no emotion at the moment, please leave a message — never — after the beep” balloon, you pop. So here we are, at 1:57 am; popped.


The moments through that purse your grandmother gave you; still on your shelf, holding her scent and her loving 10 dollars as a gift. The moments with that leaf she gave you; still within the pages of your book, making an aesthetic outline, which she craved to see. The moments when she spoke, the moments when you speak; moments are beautiful. Moments that become memories, those are indescribable.

#be glad for a moment #moments are all it takes #thoughts