Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don’t patch the cup.
Don’t patch anything. Don’t mend. Buy safety pins.
Don’t even sew on a button.
Sure, we all think that if we post the perfect post maybe all eyes will turn to us and after a full night’s sleep we will wake to thousands, no hundreds of thousands, of followers, but seriously, ever since Cinderella, who wouldn’t? Not exactly raised on Disney, but pretty close, I thought Instagram a dream platform for every selfie I might snap. Not that I wanted to be something that you couldn’t; I just thought that if I could, then anyone might. As in, if I imagined it, you would too, that we might all be more than we thought possible. A bit more flashy, more colorful, just more. You know? Like what you dream about as you lay around in the tub on a Saturday night just might make a difference. That’s what I attempted on an afternoon. #instagrammodel Continue reading
You say all your holiday lights and decorations are repacked and tucked away in the attic, and you add, you have returned to life as normal, but I’m still lingering over the gifts that keep me feeling like life is a wonderful celebration and not just a twisted complicated set of lies (or half truths or mostly falsehoods or what ever you call the untruths we have become accustomed to) told by Trump. This week, while the border wall lies mount higher than the proposed wall itself, I especially need to count my gifts, stay focused on what I can control, look up and say thank you to a pretty sunset spied on an afternoon run, and trust, yes trust that the goodness of the good will prevail over those aging white suits frantic to return to a world where their privilege was a propped up principal granted regardless of their bad bad behavior, their criminal behavior, that passed as acceptable for centuries. Ignore them and their willingness to surrender truth I tell myself, and trust that the newbies in Congress will put aside this old order and “impeach the motherfucker.”