I accidentally bought a book x
Firstly, it was not an accident.
I may therefore be guilty of a slight extension of the truth.
Secondly, I had hoped to leave that shop with a new book freshly scented with the breath of printed words tucked inside my bag.
I did, because I fell in love.
You see, love need not be something you search for, but can happen so unexpectedly that you are drawn to it, compelled to its light like a moth to a flame, blindly attracted and with no means of evasion.
In that quaint bookstore, despite having made several purchases yesterday and harbouring a shelf of adventures yet to be embarked upon, I united myself with that prize, forming a commitment between writer and reader, vowing to take their carefully crafted words into my heart, to be devoured until the bitter end.
Thirdly, that sounds like a marital declaration, but then, to an extent, reading a novel is like signing a marriage contract. You are wedded to the characters, the plot intricacies, the thoughts behind their every word, vowing to take them into your heart and to nurse them through delight and despair, biting back laughter or choking back tears with every misadventure as if they were your own children. You make a pact to deliver those words into your life and soul to the best of your ability by breathing its song until the final page, where you promise to care for it as a chapter of your own story. This is because, irrevecocably, accidentally, you have fallen in love, and to love entails the cherising of one until its final days, where you can replace it on a dusty shelf until its binding is weathered and ageing, or you can gift it to a new home, always recalling your shared journey together.
I did not accidentally buy that book, Dad. I found it, I bought it consciously, but that is because I fell entirely in love, and could not consider waiting to conclude the next chapter of our stories together.
#writer #author #fantasy #fiction #dream #competition
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Hot chocolate
Look, I don’t begrudge anyone his or her morning injection of choice, sugar or caffeine, in whatever form they desire. I, too, love my morning hot chocolate regardless of the time of year. (Air conditioning is my friend.) But, I have to say, I am dumbfounded by what people put into their bodies these days on a daily basis. I feel certain diabetes is going to leapfrog heart disease and cancer as the number one source of death someday soon…
Anyway, like I said, I say, to each his own when it comes to morning beverages, but customers at Starbucks have taken have it your wayto a whole new level. And sometimes, it is a wee bit challenging when one is waiting in line.
The other morning, when I walked into Starbucks, I was excited to see the line was short. There were only three people ahead of me. Lucky, I thought. I was running late for work, but starting the day without my hot chocolate was not an option.
The first person in line said, “I’ll have a venti red-eye with two pumps of sugar, three pumps of caramel, an extra shot of espresso and whipped cream.”
Oh my god! I thought. I can hear her arteries clogging.
“Anything else, ma’am?” Chris, my favorite barista asked.
“Yes, a caramel macchiato with…”
“What size, ma’am?”
“A grande caramel macchiato with six pumps of caramel, three pumps of sugar with whipped cream and some cinnamon sprinkled on top.”
Seriously? The idea of so much sweetness at 6:30 am – or any time – was nauseating.
“Anything else?
“Yes, a cappuccino.”
“What size?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. A grande cappuccino, extra foam, an extra shot of espresso and two packs of Sweet and Low.”
“Is that all, ma’am?”
“No, I also need a venti cappuccino, dry, with five shots and six pumps of sugar.”
At this point, I began wondering if I should just leave and suffer the commute without my morning comfort drink. But sweet tooth was handing over a small fortune for her drinks and there were only two people left…I checked my watch and figured I could wait five more minutes. The next guy stepped up to place his order.
“Good morning, sir. What can I get for you today?”
“I’m buying for my car pool this morning.”
I think I groaned out loud because the guy in front of me glanced back. I smiled.
“I’ll take three Pine Roast and three Dark Roasts, please, with room for milk in all six.”
I do a little happy dance in side.
“All small, please.”
“Tall?”
“Whatever.”
“Anything else, sir?”
“Yes,” he says. I sigh. “Two bowls of oatmeal with all the trimmings, one of those egg white things,” (he points, I gag. They look like gooey, tasteless plastic), “one lemon loaf, one bacon egg and gouda. Does that come on ciabatta bread?”
“No sir, it’s whole grain.”
“Okay, that’s fine. I also need a crumb cake.”
Of course you do.
“Would you like it heated, sir?”
“That would be great. Also, one of the steak sandwiches. Are they any good?”
No, they are disgusting. That’s why they sell them.
“People seem to like them.”
“Okay, I’ll take one. That’s all.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Although my five minutes have passed, I tell myself that they have two people making food and another two making drinks. I am wondering, however, why I never use the mobile app to order my hot chocolate before I arrive.
Carpool guy pays. It’s almost my turn.
“How may I help you, sir?”
“Just a grande iced coffee, please. I don’t need room for milk.”
I almost hug him.
“That will be $3.54, sir.”
He pays, I’m next and ecstatic.
“Morning, sunshine,” Chris says to me. “Your regular?”
“Yes, please, Chris.”
As he’s typing my order, the manager, Krista, shouts from the back room, “No chocolate drinks this morning, Chris.” She comes into the front. “We finished the chocolate last night and it didn’t come with this morning’s delivery. We’ll have to call the Ramsey store and see if we can pick up some from them.” She pauses and looks at me. “Oh, hey, Dan. So sorry about that. Can I offer you a free coffee instead?”
GENDER? I HARDLY KNOW HER. HOT.
everyone is hot.
gender plays no role
roll the dice for me
I won't mind the results
hot skeleton beneath you
bones my teeth can bite
bite your bottom lip and
don't forget mine
you are a prisoner of the cells
that spiced up your own self
self love is hard
without a little validation
cell block tango
made me gayer than you'd think
think of me as the human
that thinks of you the same
rolled in the fire
my bones formed the dice
the results are in:
everyone is hot.
Book Club
hi, jamie no one showed up saturday for the book club
I hated to send you that text because I knew how much the club meant to you.
Maybe it was me. When you host we have dozens. They hang on every word you say. With me they stare out the window and clear their throats.
So there was only this very attractive woman and I left sitting at the coffee shop and I walked over to her and asked her by any chance was she there for the book club and she said no, but I detected a great deal of sympathy in her voice so I asked her if she had ever read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf and when she said yes, I said I was surprised since most people had never heard of that book and so then I asked her what did she think the boar’s skull symbolized and she said she didn’t remember that part of the book, so I explained it at length, giving appropriate citations from the text and this impressed her so much she was literally so speechless her jaw dropped when I asked for her email address so I could send her a paper I had written about Virginia Woolf while still doing undergraduate work. She must have appreciated the offer because she put her hand on her head and exclaimed “sweet mother of God.” Yes, I think it made a great impression and I may have recruited a new member for the club. Unfortunately, she looked at her phone, said she had just received a message that her grandmother was dying and she got up and literally ran out the door. She left her danish on her plate and so I finished it for her. Anyway, hope to see you at the next meeting.
ttyl
Haha.
Why.
W h y.
Fucking.
Why.
No shit, I'm going to be mad at you, dumbass.
You had several options for what to do. Bringing him here was the worst option. And yet, here we are. You even knew it was going to happen. And yet...
W h y. . . ?
I sometimes wonder why I ever introduced you to him. I should have known better. But that doesn't give you an excuse to be stupid too, you know. Why is it that you respect him more than me? Why do you listen to him? Why do you let him control you? It's not like he was with me. He doesn't love you. He doesn't have to have any power over you. You never listened to me, even when we were dating.
Neither of you did.
Maybe that's what I'm supposed to get out of this. You should be glad I did this. Be glad I'm not able to tear you apart right now. For once, long distance friends comes in handy. How can you not see his bullshit? You've said he's an asshole. You've heard about what he's done. WHY WON'T YOU LISTEN TO ME?
I have to go. ttyl when I'm not wanting to rip you to shreds.
Group Drama
I don't want this to become a thing
Yet, you will still tell everyone
There is no more trust
No more love
You use me like a beaten down rug
We used to be best friends
Until you went and
Twisted
My
Every
Word
Now look at our friendship
Broken on the floor
I'm cut and bleeding from the jagged ends
But you are perfectly fine
I'm crying and broken
I've never been in so much pain
But you don't care anymore
Did you ever care?
I don't want this to become a thing
So I'm just going to pretend that everything is fine
While you lie to my face
And say that you love me
I just reply with "Goodnight"
Home. Patty drove me.
Home is a place I always thought I'd miss.
Until I learned one simple fact:
A home and a house are not one in the same.
After years confusing the two, I know now
That though I love the people that share my address
(And many more beside)
I have yet to find a home -
A place I can truly reside.
Patty, my friend showed me photos today.
Of the house she is looking is buy.
To see how she glowed,
Talking of her future home,
I felt a twinge of jealousy.
I have never wanted for a house,
But always for a home.
Drove by an elders' home today.
Just got me to thinking
How their lives have changed.
Before their independence
Became almost total reliance,
Had they found their homes,
Some beautiful places to stay?
Or could they take 'home' with them
To bring comfort in a strange place?
Me, I may never find my home.
I do not know where to look.
People say that you "just know the feeling"
But they never tell you where inside,
Nor can they ever describe the emotion.
Perhaps one day I'll find my answer.
Unless before then, my hope all but dies.
What is life?
We're all alive, at least I hope we are. But what is living? What is life?
Some say life is simply breathing. In and out, in and out, and bam! You're alive.
But it doesn't feel like living.
Some say life is a list of criteria. Science has a checklist: DNA, energy, response, reproduction. I fit all these boxes, I exist.
But it doesn't feel like living.
Some say life is having fun. Parties, drinking, doing drugs. Everything else just becomes a dizzy fog. I've tried parties, fallen into the haze.
But itt doesn't feel like living.
Some say life is worthless. That none of us really matter. Life, death, who cares?
I do. Death is inevitable. But not caring?
It doesn't feel like living.
Some say life is career. If you work hard enough, make enough money, have enough success, you'll be alive. Work is important, sure.
But it doesn't feel like living.
I say life is love. That loving your partner, loving yourself, loving your fellow humans, loving your job, loving your activities? That's real. That's what matters.
That's living.