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?