Daily Write - I Wear Black

I wear black. I wear black in a world wear pink is the new black and blue is the new grey and all this changing of colors makes me wonder why I was ever taught the color wheel in the first place. In this place that is driven by what’s next, what’s new, who wore it and where can I get it. A place were the more it sparkles and the most it costs, the more it must be had. Where it is never too short and it is never too low and there is no such thing as too expensive.

I wear black in a place where no one looks you in the eye any more. They are much too busy talking on their Blue tooths, making appointments on their Crackberrys, or adding to their latest blog on whatever social network is fashionable for that hour. Talking over lunch is replaced by texting. Getting together for a movie is substituted by reading tweets. People tote around cellphones that costs as much as my rent payment, but never have time to use them to make calls to people that really matter. Time is spent to much more important things than keeping up with your friends.

I wear black. I wear black. I wear black.

I wear black in place where no one notices you unless you are loud and obnoxious. Where stepping on your friends and pushing aside your peers seems to be the only way to act. Where acts of duping, coldness, insensitivity and callous are rewarded. Compassion is shunned. It makes one soft. You must learn had to drive the bottom line. All that matters is the end. How you got there is irrelevant. Your friends are your potential enemies. Your enemies are your targets. People are speed bumps, hurdles and steps you must overcome to get to where you are going. In this place, you must be loud. You must scream at the top of your lungs or no one sees you. No one hears you. If you are not loud, you do not exist.

I wear black as I watch men and women change themselves inside and out to attain a skewed version of beauty. Eating, not eating, cutting, injecting, scraping and pulling, all running after a golden standard that is splayed all over magazines and billboards, television and internet. It is forgotten that our mothers and fathers called us beautiful when we were young. Instead we wish to fashion ourselves after airbrushed photos of perfection, not grasping just how fake our measuring stick really is. Tossing away rare beauty, I watch as everyone wants to look like another her or him they saw on the red carpet, hoping that in emulation they will become beautiful too.

I wear black. I wear black. I wear black.

I do not understand. Where did it all go wrong? How can we get it back? Where are the days when life was simple, enjoyable, where people were people and not mindless drones chasing after a standard that is unattainable? When did things matter more than people? When did material possessions become the only thing that life was about? When did infatuation become the center of this place that I live in?

I have no answers. I have only questions. And I watch as the painful march goes on. I watch my friends. I watch my family. I watch my world around me. I do not know what to do, so I wear black.

Daily Write - Hands Off

I was patted on the head. Like a pet who had successfully performed a trick for the amusement of their master. This hand belonged to an awkward man. Gawky in all ways imaginable, right down to his twisted front tooth and stiff legged limp. Even his attempts at levity are laden with uncoordinated blundering. I am not quite sure what gave him the notion that he could put his hands on me in such a manner. His arm moved as if even he was having debate as whether his hand should have been any where near me or my head.

I did not like it. I never like it when he touches me with those faux gestures of friendship and warmth which only turn out to be demeaning shows of his arrogance and telling of his social awkwardness. I would rather he simply ignore my existence. There is no need for him to put on this show of forced amiability. No one believes that we get along, least of all the one who he has decided to put his hands on.

Daily Write - Valentine Flowers

Before the dinner plans and secret gifts,

Before the spending time figuring out the perfect evening

I got flowers

Before spouses, fiances, and significant others

Before being told "I love you" on cold wintry evenings

I got flowers

During the days when boys were icky and girls had cooties

And the only thing Valentine's Day meant was candy hearts

The chalky ones with pink writing

I got flowers

I got flowers every year

Because you loved me

Because you thought I was special

Because you wanted me to know 

That you loved me and I was special

I remember. I remember getting flowers

Even now that Valentine's has been filled with so many other things

Nothing can take the place of those flowers.

Daily Write - Two Choices

Amanda pulled her seat out slowly and sat down. She diverted her eyes to the table, folding her hands underneath of it. She had worked out this conversation in her head hundreds of times. But even that did not keep the words from awkwardly getting stuck in her throat. She started and stopped several times before she finally got the crux of what she wanted to say.

"Let's be honest with ourselves," Amanda said, voice low,"We are just going to end up hurting each other by the end of this whole thing. We should probably stop before that happens."

Duncan took the seat that was across the table, obviously not surprised that this conversation had come up. He had been expecting it. He had seen the look in her eyes for days now. That small fear that kept building up, eating at the back of her mind. He had watched it grow and grow, wondering when she was going to finally tell him what it was that was on her mind. He didn't speak, just took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair.

"I'm not saying that I haven't had fun," Amanda continued, her hand folding and unfolding while she talked, "Everything has been great. You have been great. But I know how this will turn out. And I would rather just we keep all the good memories and complicate things with bad ones."

Duncan didn't take his eyes off the small framed woman across from him, even though she refused to make any gesture at eye contact.

"I suppose there isn't really anything that I can say that would make you change your mind," Duncan said more as a statement than actual question.

Amanda shook her head, still keeping her eyes on the table. She felt that bad about doing this to Duncan. He had been an unseen breath of fresh in her life. He had been sweet and amazing. It was something about the way he did simple things, like say her name when he saw her, that made her feel so special. Like the world consisted of nothing but her. But Amanda knew all of that would end sooner or later. And the pain of that heartbreak would be far worse than the pangs of guilt that she was feeling right now.

There was only silence for a while. Amanda fidgeting in her chair and Duncan only sitting and looking at the top of her head. Then Duncan pushed his chair back from the table and stood up.

"It seems like you have taken time to think everything out. Though I wish that you had told me about this before. Maybe I could have convinced you to think differently about us."

For the first time since the conversation had started, Amanda lifted her gaze. The pangs of guilt only got worse when she looked into his face. He didn't look angry or upset. Only a subtle blanket of disappointment hung from his features. Amanda looked away again, not being able to handle that look.

Duncan made his way over to Amanda's chair and crouched down so she would be forced to look at his face. He gently grabbed her shoulders and turned her to him. He brushed her hair to the side, tucking behind her ear and pressed his lips against her forehead. He looked at her and gave her a small smile.

"You could be right. Everything could go the way you just said. But, I'm more stubborn than you have realized. So, the way I see it, you have two choices right now. You can let me take you out to dinner willingly or I will have to carry you to my car."