Circumspecte

This is a piece that found me in the dead of night (3am). Originally typed it on my phone, and wonder of wonders, my screen froze and I lost the original. I have tried my best to recapture what I remember of the original piece, although, knowing what that one was, I doubt this comes close. All the same, enjoy, and do share your thoughts :) -- Atypical Love Affair It starts quite innocently, as most love affairs do. A spoken word here, a stolen glance there, a shiver down the spine. It starts with the simple mention of a name, but it’s the mysterious undertones - the whos, whats, wheres, hows and whys - those are what send you spiraling forth. No turning back, drawn in under the spell, you hold your breath to relive it one more time. Burning desire coursing through your soul, exhale suspended long after the moment unfolds. It awakens, like most love affairs do. A fluttering of lips against skin, eyes locked in duel, palm in hand. Yet even after the winds tamper those imprints,...

 Inspired by a condominium of thoughts, and stylistically influenced by my interpretation of Regina Spektor's "Eet" They call it an outer body experience. And they're right, that's exactly what it is. It's like floating out in the universe, and watching the earth chug along on its axis. Like planning a speech to the very last detail, only to be tongue-tied when the grand moment arrives. Kin to doing the very thing you said you would never, ever, for the life of you do, and being achingly conscious as you're doing it. It's like being a mannequin on Fashion Ave. in NYC, oohed and aahed at, but never quite understood. -- They call it an outer body experience, but they forget the inner-body element. The fact that each is a universe onto themselves, and that's what makes living so  annoyingly complex. Eerily similar to that Grey's episode where a woman awoke during surgery and stared  down at her entrails. Unable to move, unable to scream, unab...

First post in a month! It's been a while coming and it's finally here. Warm breeze playing softly on the nape of your neck, you gaze up enthralled. There it is. What you have longed for for eons on end; finally within your grasp. You take in the expanse of it all. The red-golden-green colors silently inviting you to indulge. Yet, you hesitate. Maybe it's because some call it the forbidden fruit. That last drop of water that tips the calabash over. Come to think of it, it's quite ironic that it should be titled as such when its seeds are commonplace. At one point or another, everyone falls for its charm and after that, you're never quite the same. You either get sucked into its sweet succulent juices or you feel the stinging burn of its acrid taste. Bittersweet. The silent buzz of a bee draws you out of your reverie and you shuffle across the vast, green lawn to the foot of the tree. Some say its the exact replica of its ancestor in the garden of Eden...

[Inspired by a fascination for accents, language, dual/multi interpretations and hoping that others can make sense of my sometimes bizarre free writing] "Life. Hmm." Wonder how many times that statement has been made, and what it's been followed by Maybe hours pondering this and that, whys and why nots.  When you think about it , the only relevant why is "Why the hell are you pondering life when the Good Book has already told you it's meaningless?"  But then again, you never did listen. Did you? Oh, what's that? You wanna show me some att-itude, now? Talking about "I'm a grown-ass person, I can do what I want" Mmm-Hmm, that's what I thought.  Every single time you said that you ended up right back here.  Hot charcoal pot to the side, fresh soot decorating its ears.  And you. Looking at me with beseeching eyes.  Here we are again. I mean really. It's pretty simple. What you put in, you get out.  You ain't no c...

Pitch dark. Either way you look at it, that's all it is. Black, dark, uninteresting, uninspired. You move your head to the right and you might as well stay in your initial position, nothing's changed. How ever did you come upon the depths of the Mariana trench? Professor A. certainly wasn't kidding when he said it was the lowest point of the earth. But even he hadn't the slightest idea of just how low it gets. Battered and torn. Tattered and forlorn. A misguided grin creeps upon your face. It wasn't always like this. Far from it. At one point, you were riding high, soaring to the skies.  Believed you'd landed among the stars.  And then, like all the others, you never saw it coming. Scorn reinstated. And oh, what the downthrow it was. Out flew the self-respect, in seeped the conceit To hell with the morals, who's even thinking values? In that vacuum greed and self-satisfaction took seed And boy, what a party they threw! Eventually, it appeared on the...