I met Jane at the center of the earth--it was dark, there was dirt all around. But I gather you can figure that. Jane says, it's a long way out.

[I'm gonna make it out.]

Jane says, you're as Holy as a ghost, but who loves you the most? If you offer I might let you carry me. In the end it's the wealth of your spirit, now hurry up get on with it.

I went left I got right at some big hotel. There was a devil at the bottom of the wishing well. He said, you better give me something good--like everybody else I'm misunderstood. I took a guess and cut a portion out of my heart.

He said, that's nowhere close enough but it's a damn good start. He said I've seen one, it follows that I've seen them all. We spoke of human destination in a perfect world and derived the nature of the universe [found it unfulfilled].

As I took him in my arms he screamed, I'm not insane! I'm just looking for someone to understand my pain.

It's a long way out.
I'm gonna make it out.


The Devil In the Wishing Well, Five For Fighting

it's empty in the valley of your heart
the sun, it rises slowly as you walk
away from all the fears
and all the faults you've left behind

the harvest left no food for you to eat
you cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
but i have seen the same
i know the shame in your defeat

but i will hold on hope
and i won't let you choke
on the noose around your neck

and i'll find strength in pain
and i will change my ways
i'll know my name as it's called again

cause I have other things to fill my time
you take what is yours and I'll take mine
now let me at the truth
which will refresh my broken mind

so tie me to a post and block my ears
i can see widows and orphans through my tears
i know my call despite my faults
and despite my growing fears

but i will hold on hope
and i won't let you choke
on the noose around your neck

and I'll find strength in pain
and i will change my ways
i'll know my name as it's called again

so come out of your cave walking on your hands
and see the world hanging upside down
you can understand dependence
when you know the maker's land

so make your siren's call
and sing all you want
i will not hear what you have to say

cause i need freedom now
and i need to know how
to live my life as it's meant to be

and i will hold on hope
and i won't let you choke
on the noose around your neck

and i'll find strength in pain
and i will change my ways
i'll know my name as it's called again

the cave, m&s

it was sudden and unexpected [as these things usually are]

n looked up from the morning paper and over-sweetened chai, whispered something gently
b turned from the stove and flipped off the fan. i'm sorry--i missed what you said?
i...ahem. we. we should talk, n said
stopped cold. those words are rarely crafted to prompt a 'happy' discussion. b forced a nod and moved to an empty chair at the table, dry throated and unable to start
more confidently this time, n repeated, we should talk.
yea?
yea. you're not happy...
i'm scared.
i know--and you're not happy
but i could be?
you won't be. you weren't yesterday, you're not today. it breaks me to watch as you close yourself off from everyone we know, then come home so happy night after night after going... wherever it is that you go
you know where i go. i just need space. sometimes, people need to escape. it's nothing personal, n..
but that's something i'll never be able to give you. you'll be forever escaping from me. and i'm not sure how to handle being second best.
i'm with you.
no. you're comfortable with me. you know i'll still be there when the night has twisted your words and claimed your thoughts. and that's great--but it's all i am.
that's not entirely fair. you're not stuck here, you know?
i..know.
silence. one looked to the other, waiting.
well?
well what? you seem to have come to your conclusion in a rather direct stream of consciousness. now, there's only one question left.
and what's that?
where does this leave us?
after shifting around in the dark wood chair, n's eyes dropped to the floor. i should go.
you should go?
yes. or you should go. somewhere with someone else. or no one. whatever will let you be happy. without the escapes
no. you're asking me to leave you?
i'm asking you to be fair.
love's not fair.
i want to be your escape. i want you to be able to be as happy here as you are out there. with them. tears began tracing the left cheek.

she stood, resisted the urge to kiss him one last time, and pressed her hand against the frame of the kitchen door. she heard him reach for the phone--he was calling r.
b started as she reached for the door handle, you know--i've always been jealous of your love for them--especially r. you loved her the most, even in friendship. she was the escape you wouldn't let me be. and i don't know that i can do this again.
he looked up, letting the phone drift from his ear. i don't either.

it didn't take long to notice the sharp knot in her stomach, the feeling she was drowning as her lungs pulled tight, her vision blur through tears and the world around her swirl, the weight of all her limbs as she forced her legs to move. slowly. one after another. and struggled against some unseen current to press out of the kitchen, down the steps of their old wooden porch to turn left, heading toward the horizon.

she never turned back. they never met again. she would never forget--

broken umbrellas.

K--

i loved you. you should know that. i really, really thought i could make it work. i knew it was a long shot, especially with the baggage and background. we both had our share and god, that was the hardest part.

who were we kidding? we were bound to run into some trouble eventually. it's not like we checked the astrology charts to be sure we were soul mates, or even felt love at first sight. we just needed someone to be there. and we were, but now we're not. so it's time to be realistic about the time we're investing here. what's our goal, anyway? to be with one person for the rest of our lives? how crazy is that, when we can be happier with other people. you don't love me any more, i know. and i can date again, maybe i'll even get back into shape. we could be okay without each other, and figure it out as we go..

but i don't want to. i enjoy your voice, your presence, your smile. we were in love, once! i'd give anything to feel that again, with you. the time we're investing is for-ever. the love we're fighting for is timeless. i adore you, so i'm not going anywhere. we don't talk anymore, but we can still listen and feel and dream. sit with me. walk with me. i'm just asking you to try, and i promise that i'll try too.

i'm still that kid, standing in the rain with a broken umbrella--(remember the day we met?)--i just need a little help to get out of the storm.

i will always. love. you.

-C

heart beats

water chills the toes,
sand rubs the soles of feet,
wind ruffles hair—
they walk out to the edge,
between wet and dry sand
to embrace the rising tide.

he taps her shoulder;
she turns around.
his fingers sweep away
a strand of hair from her face.
smile. he reaches for her waist
and right hand…

the next five minutes are lost—
absorbed by waves as they sway
with an imaginary song that’s
trapped in the breeze and
only accompanied by a constant
rhythmic sea and faint sound of
heart beats.

Highly Recommended..

especially for you Sci-Fi book lovers. I loved The Moon is a Harsh Mistress for its story, characters, and detail! It’s great for those who enjoy a good political science fiction novel. It’s a relatively quick read with a plot that just keeps on coming.

TANSTAAFL!

Synopsis (from book jacket):

It is a tale of revolution, of the rebellion of the former Lunar penal colony against the Lunar Authority that controls it from Earth. It is the tale of the disparate people-a computer technician, a vigorous young female agitator, and an elderly academic-who become the rebel movement’s leaders. And it is the story of Mike, the supercomputer whose sentience is known only to this inner circle, and who for reasons of his own is committed to the revolution’s ultimate success.

See more progress on: Read more books

Happiness 002:

sunsets, of course.

staring beyond the horizon watching the quiet, peaceful darkness fill your lungs—deep breath…

See more progress on: 100 things that make me happy

mockba

[this is a story]

about the government,
a russian girl,
and her luggage

...

[just. live.]

he saw his son peering around the corner of the cracked light-brown door frame.

come on in, boy, it's alright
you sure? i didn't mean to wake you
no no, you know i always like your company

he tried to force the corners of his mouth upward into a smile, but the pain and exhaustion didn't offer anything promising. his son took two steps into the room.

want to play parcheesi?
i'm a little tired, what about your sister?
layla is helping ama cook dinner--it's okay, we can just talk.

the little boy stumbled over and sat on the edge of the bed, patting his father's hand. tears filled the man's eyes as he wrapped one arm around his son.

what's wrong?
nothing's wrong
but you're--
i'm just proud of you. and i love you. you should know that, do you know that?
i know
good. now go help your mother set the table and i'll be there in a minute
alright
that's my boy.

he imagined what his son might be like when he grew up--what university he'd attend, whether he'd marry, and what he'd look like. would he be tall, or stout like his mother? she was beautiful--the love of his life, and a most loyal friend. how could he do this to her? no, it wasn't his fault...how could god do this to her? it wasn't fair. it never is. two years is better than 6 months, like some have. but it's never enough--neon shines, through smoky eyes tonight...

you can't time stamp life. how long from now would you be okay with dying? it's not something we can comprehend, you have to just. live. make each breath count, each shoulder squeeze mean every bit as much to you as it does her, every smile brighten your day as much as you hope it will theirs, and enjoy the kites, bubbles, noise makers, and even the stains in the carpet. these are all the memories. these are the stories. in the end, it's what lets us smile.

so just. live.

it's not fair. it's not easy. and it's not going to get any better, unless you make it better. you have to atleast try, and you have to let yourself laugh--and cry.

i love you, he whispered through soft sobs.

he wanted you to hear it every day, as if he were still here...even long after you'd forgotten his face. on quiet, dark nights as you go for a walk to clear your mind with a friend by your side, or in autumn as you sit on a bench to watch the leaves racing to the ground, or warm evenings listening to summer crickets--that's where you'll hear the whisper. and every once in a while, you'll have the urge to whisper back.

here i am, i love you too. and we're okay.

it's the little things we've forgotten:

sometimes, all you need...

is to forget about the tornado outside, and have a little fun.

case and point: bubbles. instant stress relief.



please feel free to contact me with any questions, i'll be here all week. (part ii pertains to colouring books)