I lie to myself when I think I am a person of no words. I am at a loss if the in and out are
not linked by a natural bridge, I am the stranger. A constant thought can be a way to narrate
a part of my life. I want to be genuine to people around me but it’s a losing battle.
I am a truth holder. I am a secret keeper. As long as I provide no entry, I can keep it together
and not let ancient coliseums tumble. This volcano will not erupt. Sometimes I wish it would.
Breathing and sitting right beside me, the paralyzing fear of doing. My comfort food is dissociation.
Obedience and silence have controlled me far too long. Sometimes when I look into myself, I
feel like I see a smashed watermelon, there is a rape of red, the green is broken fragments,
but the black seeds are promises.
I look out and I see red brick apartment buildings, green grass, and running, running to the
tree, I have to go. I have to get there, touch it before I get tagged. Hands clasp over the
Step, step, jump. Step, step, jump. The rhythm in jumping over the wooden red fences is a
calming sense of anchor in the world, to find a pattern and to perform it. You can actually
Blackbody radiation is when a material emits radiation and the random motion of molecules
on surface convert energy into electromagnetic radiation. We are all interacting with each
other even when we are not saying anything to each other. Your world and your world, all the
internal worlds are colliding like these molecules. These doubts and fears while I’m
in your presence or not, I am rolling them up now. I am pushing them into this ball in my hands
and letting them go, throwing them away for the moment. And if I have anymore, there are plenty
more throws left for me to make. I will let the ball fall away in the distance, and emerging
near me are soap bubbles. I catch the spheres on plastic loops and liberate them again.
These are all broken dreams and fragments. But why do I feel the most alive and fit in here,
in the cracks. In all the chaos, there still is order. Especially when what is lost is returned.
Unbelievable things really do happen. I had a pair of purple sandles with tan colored soles.
Shoveling sand into buckets, a huge tidal wave rushes up on the beach and crashes into the
three feet dug hole. Feet already soaking wet from the salty water, I pull off the sandals
and put them on the side outside of the hole. I run out to switch digging with handling buckets.
All of a sudden another wave comes crashing in and after the smear of foam recedes on the shoreline,
I see the sea has taken one of sandals away.
At the end of the day, I take that one sandal with me to the log cabin and place it on the
edge of the wooden floor benches. Days go by, we have duties in the morning, we collect rocks
of colors, we explore nearby caves. Two weeks have passed and that particular morning, I decide
to throw away my sandal into the trash. The sun is setting, the mountains are turning dark
green. I sit out on a broken tree branch in front of the ocean. Small whirlpools are breaking
on flat bedrocks. There are tree trunks and trash debris washing up ashore.
A huge wave comes up and collapses at my feet, the other missing sandal is washed up. Before
it falls back in, I reach out and grab it. I am holding up my sandal, the same one that was
lost came directly to me. I run back to my cabin and got the other sandal out of the trash.
They are a pair again. What is lost, can find its way.