Life

Forward is forward

Your speed doesn’t matter, forward is forward

I like this saying. I think it’s natural to want to catapult your way to success or whatever achievement you’re after, but mine times out of ten, it takes time. So much time. And sometimes progress is so fleeting that it feels like you’re going backwards. 

I have a habit of standing still because it’s better than dealing with the disappointment but… I’m going to try and shake myself out of that rut. 

This is a response to: CatapultDaily Prompt

Bitchin'

One Liner Wednesday – an overwhelming urge to run away


This is my entry for One Liner Wednesday.

Someone posted a video of their pedicure (is this a thing that people do now? Why?) and their rampant need for attention aside, I DO NOT LIKE FEET. AT ALL. I don’t like open shoes. I don’t like sandals. I don’t even like peep toe shoes. Anything that shows any part of the foot (specifically the toes and heel) is off limits. I hate the sound of feet slapping in shoes. I just hate feet. So you can imagine what happened when I unknowingly clicked onto this video. I was not happy. I literally almost unfollowed them because I hate feet that much. I’m glad they’re getting their feet together because messed up gnarly feet are the worst but they need to do it far away from where I can see.
SHUDDER. 

writing

Trapped

This is a short story I wrote yesterday after my friend told me to. Yes, I do as I’m told. Sometimes.  

Her prompt was: It’s raining here – write about a spirit trapped in the fountain at the center of the Plaza breaking loose.

~

I’m not sure who I am or what I am, but I do know that I’ve been trapped in this fountain at the center of the Plaza for a long time. I’ve seen people come ago, I’ve seen fashion trends that overstayed their welcome. I’ve even seen Hollywood’s latest starlet puking her guts up. For the most part, I observe. Occasionally I wonder if I have a moral compass. I snicker whenever I see someone trip over some wayward pebbles and commiserate whenever another jackass picks this fountain as their breakup spot. 

It’s never really been an issue because I’m trapped here. I’ve never really considered what it would like to be free. 

Would I wreak havoc on those that deserve it or would I drift through streets and try to explore what’s out there. I may see a lot from my fountain, but my view is narrow. Perhaps that means that I never see the full picture. Again, that’s something that’s never piqued my interest until now.

Now, I’m free.

I don’t know how it happened. One minute the fountain was spluttering violently, raindrops crashing into the water in a staccato beat. The next, I was transcending above it. It was surreal to say the least.

I’m not sure what abilities I have if any, but I try my luck in directing the rain towards a woman feeling from the downpour. The water crashes into her and sends her skidding into a huge puddle. She stops and turns around with an accusatory expression but she’s forced to carried on when there’s no one there. I let out a whoop of glee, although it sounds more like a hoarse whistle.

I begin to glide through the streets, passing numerous shop windows.

I have no sense of time but I guess that it’s around mid afternoon. The stores are beginning to get busy, either with patrons escaping the poor weather or college students with nothing better to do.

It’s then that the thought hits me. What if there was a way that I could experience that. Life. Not as whatever I was but as a human. I wasn’t sure how that would be possible, but I wasn’t going to change my mind either. I just had to choose a vessel to occupy.

I continue to venture down the street and by some miracle, the rain subsidss. I wait momentarily to see if I will suddenly re-emerge in the fountain, but nothing happens. Within the hour people begin to stream back outside. There are young mothers with their screaming toddlers, giggling teenagers who seem to possess more energy than everyone else combined, and their wearier parent. There are hipster millennials who had an affinity for flower garlands, the young men who are adorned in baseball caps and tight jeans. And one ghastly individual with a fedora,but none of them catch my eye.

At least not until I came across a gentleman who seemed to be posing for the same shot repeatedly. I paused, suddenly fascinated by both the vanity and technology. My spot in the fountain exposed me to countless types, from the Polaroid to the digital camera and the flip phones. However, I wasn’t as prominently featured in images before the rise of smartphones. The bright shiny object that this gentlemen was poring over now.

A woman walks past and mutters something along the lines of, “There goes another narcisstic selfie.” She trundles away with a disgruntled sigh and I turn back to the gentleman. He’s posing for another shot, but I’m not entirely sure what he’s trying to capture. The surroundings or himself.

Even so, I’m intrigued. I decide that this will be my vessel. I close my (figurative) eyes and take a (yet another figurative) breath before I launch myself forward and hope for the best.

Awkward Situations, Life

I’m a beacon of unwanted attention (#SoCS)

So, on Friday I got a call from this guy who I’ve only ever met once. He basically popped up next to me and started talking to me randomly. I was taken aback but it was after midnight and I was tired and just ready to get to the bus stop. We were walking through this shopping mall where I’d witnessed a serious incident a few days earlier so I was happy to have someone to walk with and I was talking to him. We are from the same place so he was asking me questions and so forth. 

And then he basically asked me out and I did everything but say no. I gave him my number but he was really weird about it. He didn’t take my name. He didn’t check to see if the call had come through on his phone. Only God knows what he saved me as. Random girl? Who knows. 

Anyway, he called me the next day while I was at work and one more time after that. This was before Christmas. 

Three months later, this dude has called me again. I didn’t pick up but…Uh, what the hell? I have this mental picture of him having contacts named ?, ?? and ???. Perhaps he just called all of them because he realised that he doesn’t have names. Or maybe I made a really strong impression, LOL. Either way it was rather random. 

It reminds of this one guy who would ALWAYS come up to me and ask my for my number. I’d give it to him and he’d be like, ‘Oh, I’ve seen you already’. I couldn’t work out if he was creepy, interested or just in search of anyone with an available house for parties (he was always really interested in my living situation, where I went to school. It was weird). It got the point that I had to change my route because he’d always come up to me. And that’s not even the worst part. He would call me constantly. Five, six times per day. It was basically harassment until he gave up. One time I accidentally answered and it was so bizarre. 

Another time I got a call from this guy who asked me how I was and then started laughing. I hung up. 

At this point, there are probably too many random dudes with my number. Before I was giving them an old number but one time the guy called me there and then and I had to answer questions about where my ‘other’ phone was. It was so mortifying that I just gave my real number. And so many of them call to make sure you have given them a legit number. It’s awful. Someone needs to teach me how to navigate through this shit. My game is all off. 

I seem to have a knack for attracting creepers and pervy, old men. Do I have some kind of Creeper Attractant ability or something? Ick. 

Men, please do better. Thank you.


Written for the SOCS prompt of ‘man‘. 

Life

I’ve got 99 bobby pins and I can’t find 1

This is a response to the prompt for #SoCS Feb. 4/17 found here


I have reasonably nice hair. At the moment it’s black and brown. Brown from when I dyed it last year. I hate that it hasn’t faded yet but I am too lazy to dye it black. I don’t want to end up with that artificial black colour that comes out of a box.

If I could name a list of things that drive me crazy, hair would be number 7 on the list. Some days, it goes into my tiny bun nicely (always a bun because I hate that it’s short). Most days, it’s a battle of getting it to stick down. I always use a million hair clips and headbands to cover up what I see as deficiencies. It looks weird at the front, it’s too short at the back, it’s too short. IT’S TOO SHORT. TOO DRY. TOO GREASY. TOO FLAKY. TOO FLAT.  Continue reading “I’ve got 99 bobby pins and I can’t find 1”

Life

Detritus | JusJoJan. 31.

de·tri·tus\di-ˈtrī-təs\
noun

the pieces that are left when something breaks, falls apart, is destroyed, etc.

It’s 2017 and somehow we appear to be living in the midst of the broken pieces of our own humanity. People no longer have sympathy for those less fortunate than them, let alone compassion. Moving stories are now being ironically called fake news. Victims apparently only have themselves to blame, but at the same time everyone is a victim. Having a roof over one’s head is no longer a blessing but not enough. People want more and more, often at the expense of other people. 

I’ve thought about why this has happened and just reasoned that humans have become more impatient. Selfish. Self-centered. Self-absorbed. We want quick success and easy money. We want someone to blame for our problems. And now technology has made it so much easier for people to cherry pick their targets. There’s always going to be a scapegoat. 

We’re broken and sadly, there’s no repair manual. 

~

Just a quick response to the last JusJoJan prompt. Happy February, peeps.