A soliloquy

Can I write you a story? Can I play you a song? Can I dance with you in one arm and carry flowers in another? Can this be simply beautiful without an interjection of “what if?” Can I put my sail up and float along on this ocean’s wave even if it is just for a while? Can I just be swept away with the magic of your eyes gazing at me? Can I just forget all the yesterdays and feel free? Can this be what it is without one heart becoming wounded? Can love just be rather than end in misery? Can I just be me without causing an undesired effect? Can this be fun rather than a shotgun wound to the heart? Can I be with you without worrying if I will change my mind? Can we just be a harmonious melody even if there is a finish line? Can life allow for ending without dead ends? Can both of us see that if this is meant to be perhaps that means there may be a dropoff point?

What responsibility do I carry when exploring new territories? Am I really a Spanish Pilgrim carrying havoc and distress? Where might my joy take me if not into new discoveries? Is this not just an experiment of unconditional love for one another? Where then does this all leave me at the end of the day when I look at you and say, “I don’t know now, but I’m afraid I’ll know later and then I will only cause pain?” When are we allowed to have fun and let that be our love?

 “Who are you?” they always ask, “To not be with someone.” When does my answer “I am with someone and that someone is me,” become the right fact?

I am baffled by this role, this life of playing roles that are constantly misunderstood. I am baffled that there is this “need” to be with someone else to feel complete. I do not believe in this any more. I do not believe that I am missing a half. I do not believe that there is just one “just right” for me. I believe that I have been lucky to have fallen in love more than once and I believe that I am lucky to have discovered that I really am complete without the other “thee.” The mystery of belonging, of longing to be together, is something that I do not believe to be a healthy act.

Now I would just like to be and actually enjoy another’s company without the bells and whistles of future ringing in their eyes and ears as I speak my soliloquy. I do not want to apologize for casting a spell that causes you to see unclearly. I do not want to apologize for an end that may occur. I do not want to apologize for a fairy tale that may never end happily.

I simply ask for this moment, this bit of time, to be happy with what we both have given rather than worrying about tomorrow’s broken heart pedigree.

My facebook status tonight

Listen intently to that which is not heard within the babble...there are melodies that bring beauty and joy to the heart that are not audible to those who just hear. Listen to the silence that falls around empty words and you will discover the true melody.


Perhaps this is the beginning or the end or a complete poem...I do not know. I just merely felt the words come out as I sat down to type a status tonight.

A night at the museum

I went to the Museum of Contemporary Art this evening hoping to be inspired and driven to write a lot this evening. Per usual I was unexpectedly surprised by how my expectations were soo wrong. Note to self, when inspired before going to an art museum, just go home and write, don't go to the museum.

It was not that there was really nothing cool to look at...although I was disappointed by how uninterested I was in 1960s and 70s Italian art. I feel rather bad about the Italian artists these days, they have such high standards to live up to with Caravaggio, Michelangelo, and Da Vinci. No wonder they went to extreme lengths to try and regain something creatively inspiring.

I was most taken aback by the sculptures. I never imagined myself as a sculpture lover until I saw the "real" David and started crying by how extraordinarily beautiful he was. He is the perfect man. And then tonight, it was the dead corpses covered with blankets that I couldn't get out of my head. I was taken aback as I walked down the hallway to find these 9 covered bodies--all of them contorted in different ways.

What struck me was the mystery of the story below the blankets. How did they die? Who were they? Did they suffer? What was their last thought? Questions rang through my head like the ambulance sirens that were supposed to come pick them up and take these sculpted dead bodies to the morgue.

And on my walk home, I laughed at the fact that death is beautiful. And with that thought I was transported back into the scene in American Beauty when the boy is showing the film to the girl with the dead bird in it.  Death is beautiful. There is a peace that takes over no matter what pain the person was in. Morbid, maybe. But it triggered an avalanche of thoughts and questions.

There is fear about death everywhere, yet we depict it artistically all the time--movies, music, visual art, and even in the food we eat. We in many ways feed off of death. That may sound like a strong statement, but when was the last time you ate something that didn't result in the death of something living? Even if you are a vegetarian there is still death involved for that plant.

Death deserves some respect and less exaggeration. We are all terminally ill and we are all dying. Which raises the question of dependence. Life depends on death, yet as humans we feel so much sorrow and grief when death occurs--we don't want it to. However, if it did not occur life may perhaps cease to exist. You cannot talk about death without encompassing all living things. Death won't stop just for humans, that would break the balance of everything. The earth needs us to die just as much as it needs trees to die.

It is the lessons of suffering that we don't want. I agree suffering is difficult, but it exists to teach and to make us aware. Death teaches us. Those 9 artistically molded bodies taught me something. Death is merely an artistic end to a story. We never know when ours may come.

Me and Moon

Me and Moon have been talking
We have been talking for as long as I can remember
No, it is not the "Man" in the Moon I talk to
Just Moon
The entire white orb of light

Moon and I have interesting conversations
Last night Moon wanted me to come visit
To bring in the New Year from above
So I traveled to the Moon
Or I traveled as best I could
And there I sat
Like a Nursery Rhyme
On Moon

Viewing the world from an objective angle
And there, up above, I talked with Moon
We discussed great things without word
Moon's light and fullness was like my heart
Radiating peace and unconditional love

I saw my friends and my family
I saw people I barely knew
I saw parties that I was invited to
but did not physically attend
Moon and I laughed and watched
as the world celebrated a "New Year"
And then the Moon said
"Watch this"
He slowly eclipsed

I found myself opening my eyes
Smiling knowing
Moon had allowed me to give my compassion
to the world for a few minutes