Broken hearts felt like dried thorns pricking at the soles of bare feet. It was a dark love, a dark world. She didn’t mean any harm. A momentary relief etching beauty towards bright lights. She had a mind full of questions with equal answers, yet there were still doubts. She paid her dues with cold hard passion ignited by sparks of fury and weakness. What was left were memories. Good, bad, and flighty ones, the ones we tried to forget. The truth made an appearance through words laced in silk, dripping from the lips as sweet as honey. The worries kept her up past midnight and only made sleep look like a distant dream. She wanted parts of him to make her feel whole, to fill the emptiness that had been there long before. She would only question her own motives and analyze intentions played by both parties. Time was too much of a valuable thing, and to waste it was ludicrous. She took on the challenge with vigor and made sound reason in that judgement. She had to wait for the suffering to end. The pain cut deeper than a slit wrist, and stung like a wound being cleaned by an alcohol soaked pad.
She might have lost the only friend she thought she knew so well, but it was for her own good. It would be months before she could muster any courage for contact. It was better if he didn’t exist. Saddening but true.
She wanted to travel to an outer galaxy with no one but him. He promised her riches on the finest china and offered great bearings of lavished gifts. The inconsistencies went unnoticed for some time. It carted scraps of blood, sweat, and tears into revolving doors of eternal agitation.
It was like having too much air but you still couldn’t breathe. The dark was comfortable and easy. It became a habit of believing the lies. She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to end it.
* * *
It was nights like this when I’d write. Bloodshot eyes, whiskey on my breath, and a joint in the hand to help me relax. I’m also typing this with my right hand. A few mistakes but well worth the few puffs I get in before the fire dies out. It’s 3:51 in the mornin’. I miss him like the heavens miss a fallen angel. You feel bad for it up until a certain point. The cats are fed and the dog is filled with poo. Can’t sleep, what am I to do? I made a mistake and prepared for the best, but in my own interest. This joint is working its voodoo. I’m tired now. Goodnight. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
Daily I’m finding ways to challenge myself for more. When I start feeling comfortable with the way things are going I feel the need to create chaos. Why does life always feel like a race? Constantly we strive for perfection because the world says perfection is happiness. You need a good paying job to make more money so you can live in a huge mansion and drive a luxury car. That’s what life is about and that’s what’s going to make us happy. Right? We are flawed beings and that’s what makes us human. This never ending race for the “superficial happy life” is wearing me out. As I become more self-aware and honest with myself I am noticing that this concept of time is a limiting belief. We get so caught up in the future and what we want in the long run that we miss the present. I’m learning to live in the now and enjoy each day. Growing up in a very religious household played a big part on my journey to greatness. As a Christian I was taught that how we lived on earth determined whether we go to heaven or hell when we die. Knowing that my eternal fate depended upon the way I lived, I kept my focus on doing everything right so I would go to heaven. I was living my life in fear and not really living because I needed to be this perfect Christian. Now I know that isn’t the case. God wants us to live in the present and focus on today. He isn’t this disciplinarian who only sees black and white. How I live my life now will shape my future. This struggle for greatness is nothing more than an illusion that distracts us from the present. We need to get comfortable with being comfortable. I hope this message leaves you well and that you all get what you want out of life.
Craft a story from the perspective of a twelve-year-old observing it all. For your twist, focus on specific character qualities, drawing from elements we’ve worked on in this course, like voice and dialogue.
Mama asked me to watch Floyd and Luke fa her while she made supper fa us. Daddy wasn’t home yet but he be comin soon. I always had to look afta my brothers, they always knew how to find trouble. Me and Joyce and them could barely talk about how cute Henry Ellis looked at school today without them little rascals interrupting. Today they wasn’t the only one interrupting. That man with the nice black suit, who come around once a month was at Mrs. Pauley’s house with a police man. It look like Mrs. Pauley got herself into some trouble. I don’t know what they was doing to her but she was crying and readin some papers that the man with the nice black suit gave her. Mr. Pauley went to be with the Lord few months back and mama said Mrs. Pauley been having hard times by herself. I only seent Freddie and Jack come around and visit I wonder where the rest of them boys of hers are. When mama makes pie on Sunday she makes me take Mrs. Pauley a piece, she always invite me inside, ask me how school is. She always gives me three peppermints for me and my brothers and a note to give mama. I wish I knew how to help her right now. Daddy was finally pulling up and I know he would help Mrs. Pauley.
“Daddy, daddy!” I rant up and hugged him pointing at Mrs. Pauley’s house.
He picked me up and gave me a kiss smiling as he turned his head and put me down.
“I know baby, I see it,” he said. “Go on and get your brothers and go inside.”
“You gon’ help Mrs. Pauley?” Poking my lip out with my left hand on my hip.
“Yes sweetie, I will.”
I gave him the biggest hug and a warm smile, I knew everything was going to be okay.
“Floyd… Luke… supper ready!!!”
Where do you start?
The urge to move forward but the fear of where to go.
The frustration begins and slowly takes its toll.
Eating you alive from the inside you panic.
Wondering how to contain this endless manic.
In every direction, running every which way.
The course grows longer day after day.
Only those who endure finish as they patiently wait.
No matter how tough or what fears come their way.
Just a couple of minutes to think of what’s next.
Time is limited so you better be quick.
More valuable than gold.
Worth more than money.
It’s all we have, but we think we have plenty.
We share it with those we love and even some we don’t.
We can’t get it back no matter what.
Enjoy what’s left because it will run out.
Stop wasting my time.