Work

The machine whirs to life, adding color to a plain bucket devoid of excitement. I watch as each drop of color falls in, sinking into that sea of white acrylic, adding an emotion waiting to blanket a wall.

Three drops of blue, solemn and alone, but hanging high above in the sky.
Five drops of green, smart and aged, imparting wisdom from old roots.
Two drops of red, headstrong and youthful, waiting to explode with passion.

I hammer the lid back on, making sure that all that energy gets contained, all that emotion does not escape. The can now goes to the mixer.

I place the can in and smile, watching as the mixer shakes fervently, creating a new emotion that may just be one of a kind, to be applied in someone's home and someone's heart.

Today, I dreamt and I wept.

This is not who I want to be.

Shackled by numbers never knowing what integer is the right key that will set me free from this numeric prison. Paper forms that require signatures, signatures that require forms, a never ending cycle of administrative chains connected to that prison.

I just want to dream. I want to dream in vivid text, colors filled in by sweeping monologues and jarring dialogue. Conflicts created from trying to find the right words to say -correction- the perfect words to hear.

I don't want to live a life of crunching numbers. I want to live a life of weaving words.

Defying Darwin

He sprouted wings and took to the sky chasing after his heart.

Autumn

He stood there, breathing into his hands in the futile attempt to bring a shard of warmth to his cold hands. The brisk air nipped at all his extremities, making it even more unpleasant.

He repeated the action two more times and watched the warmth that he could not catch dance into the atmosphere.

Springtime

She smiles at me.
Her smile is genuine.
Not the fake plastic smiles posed for pictures, but the honest, down to earth smile.

I feel my heart flutter.

I smile back.
A genuine deep-down-from-my-core smile.

I feel her heart flutter. Spring must be in the air.

Insomnia

It sounded so simple.
Lay down.
Close eyes.
Sleep.

It almost seems like dying.

Regression (A social commentary)

We took many steps forward.
Watched as great children turned into great men and women.

One day we tripped -- a collective trip, all of us.
That fall had greater repercussions than we could expect.

All that progress, all that enlightenment,
null.

What is now left on the surface:
our ignorance,
our insecurities,
our prejudices.

Can't we just take one step forward?

Donation

My heart bleeds for you but I can only give so much blood.

Inconsequential

I slapped the top of the pond and watched the rippling waves.

I almost cried.
I knew in my heart, no matter how much of
a fuss,
a ruckus,
a fit
or
a scene I made --

my true feelings would never be able to ride these ripples
and reach your guarded shore.

Innocence

She held my hand tight.
It was her first time;
I felt her anticipation.

Suddenly a small bolt shot into the sky.

Pop.

A flourish of color.

Pop.

Another flourish. She grasped my hand tighter.
I looked down and smiled, taking in the pure joy and jubilee on her face.

"Happy 4th of July sweetheart."

The Veteran

I watched as he sat in a recliner, his body slumped into it. He stared intently out the sliding door window, watching the trees sway in the breeze.

In his eyes, I saw an infinite sadness. One found only in those so jaded that even cynics would come to see optimism.

He sighed.
I sighed.

Silence.

I couldn't help but to ask myself: "Has he given up on life?"
Unfortunately, I came to a much sadder conclusion:
Life had given up on him.

The Ex

Forced smiles trapped in faded polaroids.

A box marked "memory best forgotten."

Why do I still keep them?

Because they remind me that I am happy now.

Summer Smiles

Hot summer days,
a hotter playground.

An ice cream cone in my hand.

A bump. -Gasp!-

An ice cream cone no more.

Suddenly, a familiar jingle plays.

An ice cream cone in my hand.

Thirst

In a moment of madness I witnessed my funeral. The "mourners" danced and drank; a raging party actually.

Did I want tears instead?

No - I preferred to have a drink.

The Dance Lesson

The speaker crackles. An old record begins to spin.

-Nostalgia?

Perhaps, but when the record plays
-memories flow-
released from the etches of that vinyl disc.

The music starts. A song just as old.

-Shall we dance?

Most certainly. Please follow.
Step, one, two.
Step, three, four.

-Bodies flow-

A wonderful collaboration; youth and age.

Youth

I miss the days when I was free.

Frugal Hope

If only things were as simple as he wished.
If only the thoughts he had came true.

If only the "if" became the "is" and "are" then maybe, just maybe things would finally go his way.

If only he could yell out into the cosmos and hear something in return.

Existence

He wondered if
thinking
about her was enough.
Would his thoughts be enough to
transcend
space and time to reach her heart?

Bitterness

Is there a thing as too sweet?
My rotted core tells me you are.

Reconciliation

There I was. Standing in front of where they had been buried.

It had been years since I have wanted to stand here with a head held high so I could not only tell them, but show them how much I have grown.

The serene and sunny day was perfect for paying respects. I felt as if the calmness of the air allowed my thoughts to pierce through infinity and reach them, wherever they might be.

I was passed several sticks of lit incense. I took the incense, and felt the grainy rough texture of the bright red lower section as I stood in front of the tombstone. I held the incense close to my face and closed my eyes.

Bow once. Bow twice. Bow three times.

This moment felt peaceful. It was cathartic and all the regret I held in my heart drifted away with the smoke of the incense. I was certain that whatever my heart was saying could be heard.

I stuck the incense into the dirt and then I pressed my hands together and held them close to my face. I closed my eyes again.

Bow once. Bow twice. Bow three times.

Grief pt. 2

I felt horrible, like I wronged them. I couldn't be there even though I wanted to be there so bad.

Too bad strong feelings cannot give you wings. They lived there. I live here.

All I could do was cry. I stood there, in the middle of a crowded gymnasium. A sudden wave of sadness took over and all I could do was cry. The teachers were confused, they did not know what happened. All they knew was that there was a child standing there, crying.

A wanted obsession

Days of stagnation led him to feel that life was not worth living and that all the struggling was for nothing.

He felt inclined to stay inside his hole. He was comfortable, he was content with just that. Nothing felt like it was worth it anymore, not the sun, not the rain, not the clouds or laughter of the people around him. He just drifted aimlessly.

Yet, he would still curse it.

His contention was his source of frustration. It perplexed him, it puzzled him, it outright formed a paradox.

Then, while drifting he came across a smile. A smile so brilliant, so radiant that suddenly the hole he was content in filled with light.

The light blinded him at first. He feared it. He did not know how to react.

"Foreign." he thought.

At this time, he did not notice, but he was addicted. He was addicted to the light, he was addicted to THAT smile.

All he wanted to do now was to make THAT smile appear. It didn't matter how. He would change. All for THAT smile.

It reassured him. It gave him hope. It made him believe that something is worth fighting for, that the darkness he felt content with was just a lie.

He would do just about anything.

"Lovely." he thought.

And for the first time in his life, he realized that life is indeed Lovely.

Griefing

I don't remember much. I kept my composure until the end, when suddenly the sadness flushed over me like some kind of terrible blanket. I broke down. I broke down and cried. I didn't know why, I didn't even know her that well. Yet, I felt sad. I felt grief. Did I cry because I was supposed to? Or was I really sad that she was gone?