By @pearly_al Paranoia 🖊
The microwave was humming and I knew he had popped one of those plastic container foods in it for dinner. We do not eat stale food in our house so he always orders takeout from his favorite restaurant on the days I'm too tired to cook. "Dinner is cooking" he teased. "Haha, very funny" I said making a face. I ate my smoothie while watching him wolf down that poisonous plastic filled food. He saw the look on my face and went, "say your theory of plastics and microwaves is palatable, you would rather I eat my meals cold?" "There's a reason we have stoves" I retorted. "But the microwaves are handy and faster." Mtchewww. Chris loves to argue but I wasn't having it, not tonight. "Plastics in microwaves are a terrible idea Chris, they poison your food." Period. I was leaving the kitchen to avoid his clapback. "You only live once sweetheart" he called after me. "Then enjoy your slow death my love" I replied, shaking my head and smiling. Such dunce.
Chris is a master in stealthy and clandestine activities and it made me wonder if he was a spy in his former life.
It was a bright Saturday morning and I was catching up on a tv show in the sitting room when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a moving shadow. I didn't investigate. It wasn't until I entered the kitchen that I saw that massive stainless steel box sitting on my counter and gleaming in the bright of daylight. Damn you Chris. "Chris!, I thought we agreed against buying a microwave." "That was you, not me" he returned,coming in from behind. I was pissed but I did not yell because we agreed to never raise our voices when we're mad so I simply asked if he has even checked or read what the internet says about microwaves. "I'm not going to play that checker game with you sweetheart. I'm keeping the microwave." "But..." I started when he cut me off. "But nothing Koi, nothing!" Almost immediately, he came and pulled me into his chest in a warm hug and said, "I'm sorry I yelled baby." Ignoring his apology, I continied. "You should cultivate the habit of reading sweetheart, it'll save us a lot." "And you my love should learn to stop being paranoid" he chided.
/500- Eu falei quanto a pessoa, ser humano, como amiga, filha, tia, irmã, aluna, sobrinha, afilhada, neta, funcionária, namorada, esposa, e tudo o que sou, fui e possa ser!!
Eu falhei, e se não falhei, ainda vou falhar!! Completei 25 e tudo mudou de novo, e vai mudar de novo, com 26, ou daqui um mês ou uma semana!! As coisas mudaram muito e a certeza de que virá um futuro, bagunça mais aqui dentro!
Eu me lesei, podei, todas as vezes que desisti de mim, todas as vezes que fiz ou que deixei de fazer algo! Eu achava que eu andava na linha e que coisas ruins, doenças, brigas familiares nunca chegariam até mim! Eu achava que nunca deixaria de ter fé, por dias, ela estava bem pequenina!!
Também achei que levaria amigos pra toda a vida, mas relacionamentos mudam tudo... tudo muda quando vem mais pessoas, em ambos os lados... é algo também me surpreende quando vejo que tenho uns que sempre permanecem!
Eu não sei quando as coisas mudaram, talvez isso seja a vida adulta e os choques de realidade que ela traz. Talvez sejam os insights que o cérebro traz e muda tudo, de novo!! Às vezes, a gente acorda e não quer mais dormir. Revolução!
Embora tenha aprendido pouco, que eu desaprenda e reaprenda! Que eu me conserte e que desconserte, assim que necessário!! Por hoje eu tenho sorte, porque esparsos bate no meu rosto e deixa tudo lindo! Esse amor de Deus em forma de solzinho da manhã, é que me mantém aquecida!! #eusouoqueabíbliadizqueeusou#eutenhooqueabíbliadizquetenho#eraumavez#sun#eudora#model#curl#writer
“Black art and objects are containers of shared experiences, and repositories of creativity. They are anthropological proof of advanced cultural production as well as atlases and road maps for future generations. The preservation of these entities engenders curiosity, analysis, and self-interrogation. At some point a young mind will ask “Who am I?” and these objects, will answer them.” @LegacyBros 43 #Writer#Curator#ArtHistorian#Chicago#StonyIslandArtsBank
I know that I go deeper than I like to admit. That I run deeper than a brushed off joke and I ache deeper than a quick quote. I go deeper, to the skin and below, to the bones and below, to the soul and below. I go deeper, and it’s only now I’ve realised, that’s what makes me so fucking breathtaking. I have worlds beneath worlds and what a life; to live in more than one place, at once.
They might call you a wanderer
Or a floundering soul
But honey, there are surprises
that you couldn’t have dreamed & they’re coming to you.
~sometimes you have to pause before the next season~
Ps. Happy spring equinox
After 2 rejections on the new rewrite of The Last Bookstore (aka my first manuscript or 'problem child') I have gone back to drawing board.
1st rejection said "writing strong but story is not for me". 2nd said "like the story but writing doesn't sparkle enough." Ha! You've gotta laugh or you'd weep!
I am taking this as encouragement - because previously there were major structural issues with the book and I think November's epic rewrite went a long way towards fixing those.
Now I am working on the 'sparkle'. Not with another big structural edit like previously in which the plot chapters and scenes were overhauled, but a microscopic level one.
Called the "oral edit". Reading out loud as though you're performing it, listening for every word that sounds wrong. Rewriting paragraphs on every page.
It's just as arduous in its way as the structural and probably takes the same amount of time (probably get 10 pages done per hour, of a 260-page manuscript). But it's easier to do in that hour before work than the structural edit was. You can dip in and out whereas the structural edit requires long periods of uninterrupted focus.
Anyway, it's all a big and beautiful learning curve!
And if you read this far, hello and thank you! 🙋♀️🥇🌹