Whitney Carman
Bio
"...even if what I have written does not make sense to anyone--at least--it has helped me a little...And anything that can be whittled down to fit words--is not all madness."
-Lara Jefferson These are My Sisters
Stories (14/0)
Journey
Enter the absence of self, collapse into the black hole, surrounded by shadowy shrapnel's of history, unrecognizable. Cones and rods for color and depth, the light and darkness morphing reality into illusion, collapsing into feeling, then confusing words, followed by silence. Tiny words, tiny grains, tiny human in the world of things.
By Whitney Carman6 months ago in Humans
Voices That Echo
Where is Mother Theresa when you need her? Who is the next Martin Luther King, Jr., and when are they coming? If I set the table, will the next martyr, please show up? I'm afraid we are heading towards World War 3; wars begin at least a generation before a series of catastrophic events occur in succession, only to be viewed as causes, in hindsight. Let's all take a minute to breathe.
By Whitney Carman2 years ago in Families
Opioid Crisis
My hometown city is in crisis, and I had a dream last night about it. My dream inspired me to track down those I am thankful for and confront those that did me wrong. I found the principal of my high school on Facebook; I sent her a request. I wanted to share with her, how grateful I was, I really hope she accept, but when I checked again this morning, she hadn't yet. I started looking for the others, I found the vice principal's obituary. My experiences with him, and watching his maltreatment of others, one couple in particular, left me feeling sad, for whatever happened to him that caused the death of his humanity long before his life ended.
By Whitney Carman2 years ago in Families
Pay It Forward
I fell through the cracks. I was neglected by my family, the ones that were nearby, were a state away. They’ve always been better than me, according to them, but I’m okay with that. What I don’t understand is why all I can think of, is appreciation, and if I was born without a negative button? I ask myself; why was I so lucky to have so many memories of random acts of kindness?
By Whitney Carman2 years ago in Humans
Two Eyes with Wings
Fresh snow erases the ugliness of winter, without a collection of flakes and without leaves, something is missing from the cold. The trees resemble roots, as if someone took them and turned each one upside down for the season, except the coniferous ones, those have a point to make. I have a point to get to; we all do.
By Whitney Carman2 years ago in Fiction
In My Head
There are so many ways to end relationships. I think everyone hopes to find the least painful way, this time the ending, like credits at the end of a movie. One particle at a time, polarity began to shift, until the placid attraction became volatile rejection. The end began when I became happy. Instead of angrily demanding things, I gave him freedom and relinquished hope, and for a short time I was happy to get whatever I was given. But, the rush of mutual attraction brought so many pleasant possibilities, as if liking someone and being liked back were all that was needed to try on forever, and I do love that idea. In my head, we have already done everything I wanted to, except I did them all alone and imagined you.
By Whitney Carman3 years ago in Fiction