Checks and balances

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The universe acts in an infinite series of checks and balances. We pay the price for every transaction.

I know that for every smidge of makeup I put on my face, a denizen of spite will appear on my forehead between my eyes; a “third eye of evil,” if you will.

I know that for every minute I delay waking up, there is an unread work email waiting for me; my alarm’s way of retribution.

I know that for every mean act and hurting word, there is a buzzkill, growing in magnitude in some far corner of the galaxy, out to demolish my day or haunt my nights.

I know that for every sunlit childhood memory, there is one immersed in shadow, sipping repercussions through a straw.

I know that for every piece of my heart I give away, my heart becomes all the more rough and coarse, an organism of craters in my body reflecting the moon up above.

But this I know for certain: for every moment sung in despair on Earth, there is a comet racing past us, a passerby bearing witness to our trials and knowing we are larger than our mistakes, and giving us yet another day to rise and fall, and rise and fall again.

A response to Daily Post’s prompt: Price

Salty & precious

Memories of my childhood island are as precious to me as a natural resource. I have plentiful, but I know one day they’ll run out; I have to take sparingly. Maybe one day I’ll need to visit once more to rejuvenate my supply.

Here is what I remember:

🌴 The beaches were my personal kingdom. I would roam them with bare feet and bodyguards; my dogs Puppet and Jackie.

🌴 The roofs of the houses were flat cement. I’d use a ladder to climb up my neighbor’s and do my homework, the saltiness of the sea breeze settling into my hair.

🌴 We would burn our trash beside the house. I’d play with the fire, poking at it with dry branches, seeing how easily they would burn.

🌴 You’d know if someone died. Funeral processions were the only occasion on the island that you would see that many cars in a row, like a row of ants on their way to food left out.

🌴 I would sometimes find lizard eggs in our kitchen shelves, half an inch in diameter. A few days later, I’d open the same shelf to find egg shells broken open.

🌴 I collected shells like taxes from citizens. Then I would spread them out in my room and inspect each one, like a greedy ruler bites each coin to confirm its authenticity.

Those flying faraways

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I’m missing a feeling, and not so much a person. It’s a sense of recognition, your soul making eye contact with another soul, and going… Oh. I’ve seen you before. Fancy seeing you again in this life. Let’s help our humans get to  know each other.

It’s these vanilla clouds, these souls that feel like home, these popcorn leaves crunching underneath our feet, these moments so familiar. They fly us by, before we can raise our arms and catch them up high above us. Yet, they stay, like pieces of paper held down by a snow globe, or a rock you found on the beach long ago. Why do they stay, and how? Weren’t we just chasing after them, jumping from one rooftop to the next?

If these walls that have stood so long and sedentary could talk, what would they say?

There should be a t-shirt that says…

… “I followed these bloggers because they fucked up my shit with one line.”

Damn. There are people up in this joint who can write.

Below are some bloggers I started following recently, all because one line of theirs triggered my “Follow” reflex automatically.

And because I’m weird and I’m new to WordPress, I can do anything I want! [Insert demonic laugh here.]

So, I created my own blog award just to nominate and commend folks for their impressive one-liner superpowers. Because that takes mad skillz.

First Impressions Blogger Award3

The First Impressions Award: To be given to folks for their impressive one-liner superpowers. Because that takes mad skillz.

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Give me some credit, though. I did do my research. You are allowed to make your own blog awards. So fuck yeah. I be makin’ one of these erry week!

*** Rule ***

Folks below, if you choose to accept the nomination, all I ask is this:

If one line of a fellow blogger whose blog you have never visited before made you stop and gawk at their genius, pass forward this nomination!

 

That’s the only rule. I know there are usually obscenely time-consuming rules with accepting a nomination, but guess what? I’m not using those this time around; this is my halftime show.

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*** Nominations ***

Hot White Snow: A story about childhood and jam—as simple & sweet as that.

“Which is why I always have a secret stash of jam on my mind”

 

the FLAVORED word: A humbling anecdote on the “loveliness” of hot yoga.

“And so, I made it all the way to “Namaste”, nodded my head, rolled up my mat and exited, stage left, as fast as I could.”

 

A Lot from Lydia: Broodings on memories.

“[Memories] are filtered through a soft lens of sentimentality.”

 

Howl and Moan: The truly important things in life.

“On Longing (or things I miss the shit out of)”

 

An Upturned Soul: Musings on the behavioral limits of being a woman.

“well, I’ve never been any good at following instructions, and rules make me nervous because they’re so fragile and I’m rather clumsy, sometimes deliberately.”

 

candid shot: I do love her stream-of-consciousness post. But I quoted her tagline because that’s really what caught my eye. That’s not a word you see every day.

“longing for petrichor”

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