This is part of my Summer Reading 2.0 series
I’ve always been a fan of Sarah Dessen; she puts out a bunch of thick novels dubbed as teenage romance. In my early days of high school I saw them as just that, teenage romance novels. But ever since English teachers started pushing me to dissect literature and find deeper meanings, I’ve started to do that, the practice leaking into my leisure reading. Continue reading
Since 18 years ago I’ve slowly witnessed myself oscillating between serfdom and nobility, ending up more noble than serf.
Serfs are thrifty and don’t like to waste things and concentrate on those sort of details, because that’s all they’ve ever known. I was a kid and I liked to hoard my Rice Krispy Treats and trade them with my sister and I lived my life bar by bar, worrying only about the next immediate Treat, never more than one ahead. Continue reading
Where I work, the line can sometimes grow to stretch out the door, especially on a Sunday afternoon.
I immediately learned the importance of efficiency, speaking quickly to customers, having a pen ready before they’ve realized that they even need one…efficiency drives productivity.
As the assembly line chugs along, the rays of the sun grow thinner against the wall and natural lighting wanes. Continue reading
My sister and I used to split up the food that we bought like troops during the war. Three chocolate flavored Rice Krispies for you, and three for me. Actually, I can trade you a chocolate flavored one for a marshmallow flavored one. We used to relish going grocery shopping with the grownups, because as pre-teens, what much else is there to do?
These days, it’s been a few months since I went shopping for groceries. In the midst of life, I have delegated that responsibility solely to my parents and I just walk in and out of the kitchen grabbing what I can find.
Our world, back then, was simple and confined; it stretched only as far as we could travel for two hours or so on the highway. That was the universe that we knew. Continue reading
7. When you get the news, you want to reflect on their life.
You’re forced to voluntarily remember little details about them that are resurfacing now. You’ll want to put them somewhere, so you never forget them. Continue reading
She sits in a movie theatre and watches the main character die from the last row from the left most seat a tragic death that seems to shake the entire audience except her. The movie ends and she descends the steps one by one impassive stoic her face is dry. She comes back and sits in her bed She sits in the silence and watches another movie whose screen exists between pages of a book a spine whose binding is flimsy. sniffle sniffle She starts to cry for people she's never met whose faces she has never seen whose parents she has never met whose hands she has never held That's compassion for humanity. Her hands are bloody the skin are her nails is destroyed from stress and agitation. He holds them firmly and says I love you despite your flawed hands. hesitates, backtracks, and recants his words I love you for your flawless hands and your capricious emotions and the way you deal with your feels that your hands display the message receive the clemency. She goes back to the kitchen tea or coffee? glass or mug? pinky or no? Suddenly, she remembers the war Anguish and fury rush back to sting her Her hands are warm and she watches the color slowly disperse. Placidity counters the fury. Sympathy balances the anguish. Her hands are warm, but her heart is worn. Her mind is lethargic She lets it all go imagines it floating away this way that way out of sight, out of mind All of her efforts are spent wasted on impotence and structural barriers She wants to care, but she just can't afford to anymore. - inspired but not really much more aligned with the Daily Prompt
Sometimes I wonder about nice people
Do they know just how delightful they are?
Do they make an effort to be that pleasant?
If they’re conscious of their niceness, why do they choose to be so?
But then I wonder, are they actually nice?
Or do they just want to be known as someone who is warm and benign on the outside,
so that they’ll be more liked?
And then I ask myself whether or not it’s bad to make an effort to be such a pleasant person
Purposely saying nice things for the sake of being nice
Is it because they figure there’s already so much hatred in the world,
Or because they were taught that that was the correct thing to do?
But no one can be 100% nice.
Sadness and frustration always chips away at the shell of politeness and happiness
Do they deal with stress very well?
Do they just really appreciate life?
What if they only want good things to happen to people?
What if they just like you? Maybe they like me.
Sometimes I wonder about anti-nice people.
Horrible, nasty, pessimistic human beings.
Are they just permanently not nice?
Except, what if they just had a bad day? What if they didn’t sleep well?
Has something in their past caught up to their present?
What if they don’t think it’s necessary to be nice?
What if they think that no one deserves their niceness
Or maybe it’s just me – and the way I measure niceness
Not in how many words or good deeds
But by the intentions behind the words and deeds
Because we’re all different
And we all see the world differently.
What if they just don’t like you? Maybe they don’t like me.