let’s pretend

1_blueberries.jpg

FADE IN: a couple who have been arguing.

Let’s pretend for a while. Let’s be two different people with different pasts and different heartaches.

What are you talking about?

Let’s forget we’re fighting and pretend we don’t know each other. “Hey there,” (he smiles)

Stop it.

“How’s the coffee?”

I’m not playing this stupid game

“That’s a pretty dress.”

“Thank you,” (she mutters as she rolls her eyes)

“Got something special happening today?”

“Nope, just waiting for my boyfriend to wake the fuck up.”

“Oh, he’s a late sleeper?”

“No, he’s a dickhead who can’t see what’s in front of him.”

(he smiles)

“Well, if he forgets to tell you, know that you heard it from me: you look beautiful.”

(she looks away)

“You are beautiful.”

Stop it (she looks away again) 

“Can I get you a blueberry muffin to go with your coffee?”

FADE OUT.

why not?

She doesn’t say thank you.
It’s mindbloggling.
We took her to the moon and back, showed her the stars; live music, delicious eats, Nature, space, room to breathe, ears to listen, shoulders for padding — we have been the best hosts.
And yet.. no thanks.

How about:
Thank you for buying dinner.
Thank you for making me tea.
Thank you for driving me around.
Thank you for the company.
Thank you For. It. All.

I’m watching myself retract from her.
I’m watching myself not wanna care.
Something so simple.
Three words that make all the difference.
And yet.
Why am I so attached?
Why do I need that gratification? And so immediately?

I let it go for some months.
Let this new light fester.
And then..
Out of the blue, she reached out and asked what I wanted for Christmas
To say thanks for making her first West Coast visit one of her favorite memories.

I died.

god created the delete button

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Name: Christina A.
Occupation: Retirement Consultant.
Location: Glendale, CA.

I never thought to ask for a raise until I was in my 40s. It blows my mind cuz I gave 12 years of my life to that company. I learned a lot, don’t get me wrong; I’m still using some of those skills in my work today.
But yeah.
When I finally did a money awareness course, it dawned on me like a piano dropped on my head, that I had some major issues around money.
To begin, my family never spoke about money.
I mean, are you kidding me?
My father, may he rest in peace, had his some heavy shit around money.
I remember this one time when I asked him how much he made –
I mean, I might’ve just said, “How many times do you masturbate a week?”
His look.
[she laughs]
He never answered me.
In my family, we never spoke about 2 things: sex and money – and we would probably speak first about sex before money.
In the early days of my company, I would write “Maybe you could send me the money you owe me / your invoice has been probably overdue by 30 days, blah blah.
Maybe, can I please, do you mind, that kinda shit.
To this day sometimes I catch myself writing those words.
But God created the delete button, and damn am I grateful.

the great unknown

Mohammed Ali

FADE IN: woman and man.

She: I was in a Uber car, well, really Lyft but you get what I mean. Jamal, my driver, asked me what I do. I said nothing. No really, I said, “Nothing,” all nonchalant and shit. He took a second to understand, much like me, really, I mean who says that?
I said nothing. Ugh. What kind of despicable human, am I?

A week later, I’m at this yoga retreat and someone asked me again. I was just about to answer Nothing, when I stopped myself and took a gulp of my piping hot apple cider, burning my mouth. And I pretended I didn’t hear him, or maybe I pretended to react like I was still thinking about what we just talked about. I looked stupid, is all. Well, if I’m not sure what your intentions are, I’m going to blow you off.

[beat]

I know damn well who I am. Why is it hard to say it, “Who me? Oh, sure, I’m an artist.” Or, “What do I do? I do greatness. I am greatness.”

Mohammed Ali would say “I’m the greatest,” so why can’t I?

[she laughs]

Continue reading “the great unknown”

when do I come first?

when do I come first?

When do I come first?

No, that’s a real question.

Is it after peeing and before taking my probiotics?

Is it after my tea brews and before I check email?

Is it once Jackie is walked, pissed, pooed and fed?

When do I show up for me?

After cleaning up the kitchen and before the clock hits 10am?

After taking out the trash and before the rest of my to-do list comes a-knockin’?

Am I worth the investment?

Time for me hits home the hardest when I see someone else doing it.

A “Wow”, a respect, an inspiration; sometimes an anger, a jealousy, an envy – all of those feelings come flying out of —

My heart? My soul? The little voice within?

I struggle with balance everyday. I know you do too.

Call mum (it’s been a while), connect with best friend, look boyfriend in the eyeballs when he shares a story, hold off the worry/panic/stress/concern/time racing. Leave that at the door. For now. This here. A moment.

You can start now.

third eye business

outta whack

FADE IN: friends over tea.

A: She said my chakras are outta whack.

B: All of them?

A: No, the one’s that count.

B: They all count.

A: The fuckin’ crown chakra and my third eye. My third eye, man! That’s the whole enchilada right there.

B: How bad?

A: Well, the crown is half closed and the third eye is completely shut.

A: Let me repeat myself: it’s fuckin’ shut.

B: Wow. That doesn’t sound like you.

A: You’re telling me! How the fuck do I open it?

B: Wait. Do you believe in that stuff?

A: Well, if you tell someone they’re shitty at something, it gets them going. Especially when you’re talking about the third eye business.

B: But what does that mean to you?

A: Fuckin’. I don’t know. Like God sits there or some shit. It’s serious business. God, I had a feeling, you know.

B: Come on.

A: I’m not fuckin’ playing. I had a feeling, it’s like I new it all along.

B: Okay, so what else did she say?

A: She told me to do this: [raising arms and speaking to the sky] “I SEE.”

B laughs.

A: [Laughing] Daily. Do it with me. [Arms stretched] “I SEE.”

B raises her arms.

A/B: I SEE.

 

FADE OUT.

 

explode like a motherfucker

explode like a motherfucker

I ache for silence.
I yearn for space, for quiet.
The A/C blares, this’ll help for now.
I push the Creator up and out, write!
Hurray! We don’t have time.
An old voice.

Headache.
Late night indecision based on waiting up for love and hoping to finish that podcast.
Jackie, quiet and sleepy.
Thank God. I feel tension release when I see this.

Continue reading “explode like a motherfucker”