And ill intentions
Her mind is
Racing to the
To trip over
The depths of
Her gaping thoughts
Clinging tightly to
Her collection of
Cushioned by an
For she loves not
Because they forgot
What it means
Now she only aches
To be free
In her dreams
For the deep thinkers & the elite dreamers…
About last night…
Hmm. Where do I begin?
Drifting from room to room
Staring truth in the face
Before gulping it down
Liquid courage to keep up the pace
Floating in my mind
Drowned in thoughts
Of keeping composure
As I stare Oprah in the face
Shake her hand, Fionna. Introduce yourself,
Your work, get a grip, smile,
Not too much, not too little, focus…
Still, a blurred moment in time
When dreams blend with reality
Let me gather my self
Gather my thoughts
This moment is mine
I glide through the party
Smiles & conversations shared with
Common, Union, Alba, and DuVernay
Progressions and connections is the only way
Navigating the scene
To assure being seen
Creating a new space
To inaugurate the words beyond my face
He came from little, was witness to the most heinous catastrophes. He always had to fight to survive, so his world was cold and cruel. The son of devoutly religious parents who weren’t afraid to use the name of God to justify their inflictions of pain. A nurturing, yet detached mother and a heavy-handed, laborer father. The couple who made sure they nearly lived in the church, only creating confusion in their children who were preached to about God and love but that lived a much harsher reality. This was a somber and consequential family with a deadpan demeanor.
She came from wealth, where silver platters were abundant, and there was always someone to do the dirty work. Household duties were the jobs of maids, not a wife. Alas, there was dysfunction brewing in the love she was taught. The truth remained, children learned most by what they saw, not what they were told. That’s been true since the beginning of time and will forever remain so. The daughter to a nurturing, yet detached mother and a fun, loving father whose whimsical disposition was too often lost at the bottom of his angry, violent whiskey bottle. Another devoutly religious family always searching for hope in the darkness. Nevertheless, there was no shortage of celebration and helping those in need. This was a compassionate, devoted family with a jovial demeanor.
Two broken people with steep love deficits, seeking someone to complete them and fill their voids without understanding the truth about love.
He built something out of nothing and was living a dream when it came to material things. All he needed was a wife and children to complete the vision of perfection he created in his mind.
She was drowning in hopelessness with her current over-bearing situation, feeling trapped by her roots and desperately needing an escape. All she needed was a knight in shining armor to rescue her and take her to ecstasy, the way she dreamed her life would be.
And just as the saying goes, “timing is everything.”
They crossed paths at a time that would later prove to be catastrophic. But, in that moment, they thought it was the timing of saving grace.
A misrepresentation, an impostor, lost in translation… literally and figuratively. A tragedy unfolding…in love.
To be continued…
May today mark the beginning of a beautiful journey, a flourishing year to come.
Love more, hate none. Smile often, you never know who will soar in it. Give unconditionally but don’t give because you feel obligated or you’ll become resentful. Only give what your heart feels unattached to.
Let 2015, and every year after, be beautiful.
As beautiful and alluring as people are, we are also flawed and scarred reflecting our pain and perceptions onto the world. And in doing so, we make this world a complicated place to live in.
There is such mystery in every eye I meet, every guarded soul I feel but we have learned that sharing our heart isn’t free. It costs someone’s time and requires an interested and listening ear, and that’s too expensive these days. People have neither the time nor the interest in those who have no benefit to him.
What about the woman who empties the airport trash? She works swiftly but quietly, trying to remain invisible as not to disrupt the waiting passengers. I’ll bet in her silence and solitude, she has soaked up a wealth of information from passerbys and from overhearing conversations of those who don’t even acknowledge her existence. Or maybe she’s so caught up in her own life and woes, that she just goes through the motions everyday gliding from trash can to trash can, emptying the days burdens, secrets, and discarded thoughts. She works long hours and goes unnoticed, but without her the airports would tell our filthy truths.
I wonder if she understands more than the busy businessman how lonely our world is, or if he understands just as well as she does when he cuddles with his money at night. Maybe he just puts up a front and isn’t as blind as he seems. Maybe he understands clearly the depths of loneliness that come with being invisible. He might understand that in his world, he is equated with a dollar sign. The quality of his life is directly related to how much money people think he has… Meaning, those in his circle who he pretends are his closest allies are only there to reap the benefits. And if one day he was stripped of all his wealth, he would be like the trash lady. Alone. Stuck picking up the filthy truths of his once “closest” peers.
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t acknowledge her existence. So many of us don’t acknowledge her. Maybe we are afraid to catch trash-picker-itis… If we look at her, we’ll have that life. Or maybe we’re worried that if we let her know we see her, she’ll unload her life’s problems onto us and look for handouts. What a burden that would be, a nuisance even!
Or maybe, just maybe, we will brighten her day and let her know she matters in this world. She may even feel inspired by it. And we all know what a little love & inspiration can do.
Smile freely. Those who need it most will always appreciate it more than you may ever know.
It was an honor for me to be interviewed by this freelancer-turned-independent blogger and writer, Evan Jackson. His blog “Young, Bold and Regal” highlights women with a purpose, mainly in the creative arts. Through this blog, we are heard and appreciated and recognized for our crafts, and for our story. Thank you Evan for your support, and for finding my work notable!
Everyone, please follow and support Evan’s blog and work, he is serving a purpose that is much needed in a world where women are generally objectified and only seen, not heard. The links to his blog and social media sites can be found right under the interview link! Thank you, enjoy!
For full interview, click HERE
To follow and support Evan Jackson and his endeavors, please click and add, like, follow, and share his sites which are listed below:
Facebook: Evan Jackson
Young, Bold, and Regal’s Facebook: Young, Bold, and Regal
Sidewall divided but cyber-connected
Evolution in progress, though some refuse to accept it
A new way to dodge messy emotions
Innovated methods to express our devotions
In some cases, newer depths of loneliness
And an increase in people’s phoniness
Creative expression at an all time high
Word of mouse reaching that extra few eyes
To be fluent in technology could mean exposure
Which means, to our dreams, we’re one step closer
But this advanced tech savy-ness can mean isolation
Sudden awareness of being just one in our world’s population
An influx of inflated stories to portray abundant lives
We’re eager to prove what to whom with all these lies?
To ourselves maybe, so tech-masks we wear
Using online profiles as diaries, there’s no limit to what we share
So desperately trying to fit in with others’ lies we believe
Online statuses replace fake smiles so it’s easier to deceive
Don’t call me, just text me and I’ll respond when I please
Don’t meet me, just Skype me and I’ll be quite the tease
Sidewall divided but cyber-connected…
I wonder, is this all that we expected?