How to heal fully and properly.
Follow Your Bliss
I close my eyes and just breathe. The air never tastes clean in Las Vegas, most of the city smells like a mixture of piss and melting asphalt. In these early mornings, though, the air almost feels cleaner. Before the relentless sun bakes everything and you can feel the pollution as a layer of grime on your skin. I let the noise of the city fade, focusing my awareness into my body. The sun warms my skin. A light breeze caresses me. Dancing across my face, weaving through my eyelashes in playful wonder. I anchor into this peaceful moment. To the sensations. To the emotions. To the elements. I let them all flow through me, become me. I absorb their ecstatic joy, let it fill me. I am one with everything. Just one single thread in an endless tapestry. I can feel the heartbeat of the Earth herself, beating in tandem with mine. Whispering to me.
Tag You’re It:
In the words of Byron, “A drop of ink, may make a million think....” My high-school art teacher, Mrs. Boaz loves to recite this quote every morning.
Chapter One - A home for one. The social issues surrounding gender always baffled Maxwell. Hir was non-binary and that had led to a complicated childhood and, in hir 20s and 30s, the bouncing around of wardrobe styles and the use (or lack of) make-up lessened social interactions on more than one occasion. Maxwell could not grasp what was appropriate behavior and gradually became more isolated.
Sona And The Little Black Book
Hi I’m Sona, this pandemic has taken a toll on my mental health and friendships. I’ve discovered a lot of fake and un genuine people in the world. So today I decided to venture out the house for some fresh air. While walking I sensed that someone was watching me but didn’t see anyone.
Little Black Book I was sitting there in the cafe when it all unraveled. Like a slow motion dream, I couldn’t run and I couldn’t move. Body frozen, my mind was screaming help me. I couldn’t imagine dying here as images of my lifeless body flooded my terrified mind.
Really, Harold deserves most of the credit. I was too immersed in following the wind’s fickle path through the cotton woods-a flirtatious dance through the oval leaves. Closing my eyes, their graceful partnership rustled, a soft surf of air, sky, and earth.
One cold sunny morning, I noticed ice on the ground. While I was walking back and forth waiting on my parents, I found a little black notebook with the words “RainBow Kingdom”. I continued to play. The grass was like ice and frozen. The beautiful sun was blinding me. I am Spectra, but my real name is Anastasia King. Yes, King like Martin Luther King, one of the greatest American leaders ever!
Success takes small failures
Elizabeth knew early on that she had a place in this world. She was destined to fulfill her life’s purpose. Early one Monday morning Elizabeth was excited to get to class. Her teacher had promised a very special activity for the day. She was an intellectually gifted child.
I don’t remember how the war began, but I remember how it ended. Some of the memories, I’m sure, are just photographs really, brought to life by the strength and strangeness of time: the sepia-toned ticker tape, the grinning grenadiers, the forelocked sailors in their polished shoes. Among these, only one I know to be completely authentic. It’s of my mother, reading a telegram in the kitchen one morning, in the soft light of the curtains.
Expect a miracle
Expect a Miracle I was born with my mother’s pain, so I lived on borrowed emotions, which usually ran particularly low. It’s unnatural to be this spent. But that’s the thing with generational trauma. It makes a mess of your insides, an overturned trunk of clothes in your room and a crooked painting with no one around to help you or will you to fix it. My back hurt with the weight of today. Maybe because it was Monday and I had a 15-page paper due, with only one page typed, or because it was the anniversary of my mother’s death.
It is just like you to set up this kind of mischief five years after you die. I got your letter this morning. And the notebook. See, I'm already using it.
The Blackest Black
I never told anyone what happened when the boy came to stay with me several summers ago. I don't even know if people would believe it. I know for certain it really happened. I have my phoenix to prove it.