Empty Lies a Crowded Room

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Twas’ too soon for me to go

an empty vessel still in tow

the darkness loomed, but glowed, that room

the crowd all dapper-dressed.

The iron box of elevation

took us to that destination

the couple smiles, no hesitation

“Congrats on baby quest.”

“Guess it’s not to be,” repeated

words I’d learn, still felt defeated

empty arms I had conceded

A promised heart betrayed of grants

Glasses clinking, lighting winking

champagne fountains made for drinking

my soul betrayed continued sinking

yet how the people danced.

Oh, how those people danced.

 

 

photo credit

 

Love for the Evil One

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If that clock didn’t tell her the time so accurately, Sofie would have taken a hammer to it long ago. Why else would she have kept it?

But she needed the clock. It gave her the idea.

She pulled Meta’s box out from under the bed and opened the lid and removed the papers as carefully as unwrapping an unsolicited gift given by a macabre client. She placed them on her writing table.

Sofie inhaled the scent of moth balls Meta had placed inside in what seemed like ages ago. Those spherical balls of cedar had kept her bonnets, kerchiefs as well as her revealing words from being eaten and destroyed by those tiny winged creatures, the ones who did not distinguish between good or evil longhand.

Regardless of the pungent smell of cedar, regardless of the desertion she felt, Sofie could still take in the scent of Meta’s lilac-fragranced soap on her young, thin hands, could still imagine Meta’s right hand dipping the pen into the ink in order to recreate the unusual bizarre events of her young life.

Sofie looked down at her hands, still somewhat youthful for being eight years older than Meta and still attractive. But she felt old at almost twenty-eight, old due to the wear and tear of her insides from the constant thrusting and prodding of too many men. At least her so-called clients were transparent. They wanted one thing, a warm twat to comfort themselves, or if they were worried about disease, a warm and wet mouth to surround their growing phallus. Such control she had over that one simple bodypart.

But she was tired of that now. Only if she was in great need of money or a favor, would she sucomb to pleasing one of the hairy oafs. Besides, it was Meta who taught her about love. But it was also Meta who had done those awful things.

Excerpt from The Edges of Two Fields, an unfinished novel.

 

Daily word prompt: Recreate

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Does the Internet promote depression?

“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”  ― Blaise PascalPensées

 

I learned of this quote years back during a yoga class. It’s stuck with me and I wanted to share it. That’s how I came upon this curious “wow” moment.

So here’s what happened on the way to this post. I looked for photos of “people sitting alone in a room.” Know what I found in those “empty” rooms?

-→ People sitting in corners slumped over in depression.

-→ People on their computers or cell phones.

-→ People reading books or engaging in some other kind of activity.

-→ People staring out the window.

-→ People with their heads tipped to their chins.

-→ People with hands over their ears.

-→ People with their faces buried in their hands.

-→ If they were outside, they were more likely to look peaceful, contemplative.

But in the inside shots, NONE of the people could effectively sit quietly in a room alone.

Except for this one:

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Questions: Why does the internet (society) think we are incapable of doing this? Was Pascal right?  Are we incapable?

 

So fellow bloggers and readers

Can we trust the silence?

Can we allow our minds to speak to us in gentle, compassionate tones?

Do we listen?

Can we relax, be grateful? Happy?

Please let me know if you can find another non-depressing photo of someone sitting quietly alone in a room so I can share it with anyone who may want to try (or continue) to do so.

There is Always Hope

     Erin Moffett was one of the nine participants in the “No Hill for a Stepper” essay contest.  It takes courage to write about difficult things but by doing so, maybe Erin has taught other kids that they are not alone and to never, ever give up! Here is her essay…

                                                                  “Bullied”        

Being bullied can be an emotional rollercoaster for people. It also leads to depression in kids. A lot of people around the world have to deal with being bullied on a daily basis. This isn’t even limited to school it can also be at work or at home from your mom or dad. You also never know if the person you’re being bullied by has to deal with the same thing, by one of their own family members. It also can be over the silliest of things like the color of your skin, or the clothes you wear. I know personally how this feels, because I have been bullied most of my life.

Being bullied started back in kindergarten.  I have never been popular or all that pretty. When we went out to play in the play ground I never played with anyone.  I sat all alone at the top of the slide, talking to myself. I always had the feeling of loneliness, because I really never had anybody to talk to. I really didn’t have a so-called “friend,” I just had acquaintances. With all that loneliness I fell into a state of depression. That led me to tell myself that I would never have any friends, or that I could never amount to anything. If you never have noticed, when you walk into a cafeteria you see different kinds of groups:  preps, jocks, or academically intelligent kids. I have never been part of any of those groups. I have always felt that I needed to be popular or wanted. With the depression, I had the thought of killing myself. Then I thought that if I died, who would come to my funeral besides my family?  I didn’t really have any true friends that would go, and nobody would miss me. If anybody from school came they would probably say that I was just doing this for attention. Even back when I was in kindergarten, nobody would stand up for me, and even to this day, most people won’t stand up for me because they think that if they stand up for somebody else they would lose some of their friends. There are a couple of friends that I wouldn’t know what I would do without them. There is Blanca she is an awesome friend she holds me accountable for what I do and the mistakes that I have made even with the mistakes that I have made I know that she will always be there for me. There is also Kristie even though she doesn’t always care about what I have to say she will always be there for me to talk to. And last but not least Nancy she has been through everything with me I love her to death. If I didn’t have these people in my life I probably wouldn’t be where I am today. And I probably would have went through with killing myself

Having been  bullied I can help other people realize that they never know what somebody is going through, whether it is at home or at school. I have not had a good home life either, but I try to stay positive and look forward to the future. I learned with this that there are good friends out there for everybody. To help you with the depression and loneliness you have to find solitude in friends and family. No hill for a stepper means to me that there isn’t anything out of reach, always stays true to what you believe in.  Don’t ever let your circumstances outweigh your future.

A Depression? Again?

I didn’t know Cono early on. I was born seven years later. But when he held me that first day, I learned right away that he was someone like me, the one from the litter who fought their way up. Slow, steady and watchful, the slow days of winter and the long days of summer kept us both hopeful that our family would have a few more dollars in their pocket. But that was back in the 30’s. And you’re telling me it’s happening again? Shoot, we thought we were all done with scratching in the dirt for something to eat. A’course, Cono and I don’t have to worry none about that anymore. We’re together in the great beyond looking down on you good folks. He’s sitting on a soft recliner cloud right now and he’s yellling over to me, “Pooch, tell ’em it’ll work out jest fine. No Hill for a Stepper.”