I start to write thinking this might be the piece that’s happy. I fool everyone but my pen so the ink is crappy. Lately I’ve been out of touch with everyone and everything — except reality.
I type this in between responding to work emails on my supposed day off. The stress is weighing heavy so I go for a walk.
Fresh air greets me as soil stands beneath me. A half smile on my face till life fiercely hits me.
Last night our yard was vandalized and someone stole the solar lamps and our front gate. A shame. It cost a lot to get; it’ll cost us a fortune to replace. Theft of property and theft of our sense of security; back to where we started — contending with reality.
I take a stroll on the blacktop roads in the 'hood I call home. It feels like a ghost town until some manic in a car cruisers by listen to Yo Maps on loud. Wow. Nipano tuli for real.
Thick clouds gather around my skull as the sky falls onto my head wrap. I know I could use a shower but come on, not like this… anyway, at least the rain’s pour masks my tears. Instead of dancing I’m running — back to the house and away from this cliff.
The price of cooking oil is high — imagine my surprise when I get back to find that a power surge occurred and now my laptop is fried.
I’m in a vulnerable space but a space nonetheless. If you read between the words you’ll see them crying out for help.
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