I was reading Thomas Mann’s “Doctor Faustus” when I came across a fact one of his characters shared about a beautiful large butterfly family, the most famous and beautiful of all butterfly families because of the intricate detailed patterns on their huge wings glowing with amber orange and how they are known to taste badContinue reading “The Repulsive Beauty of the Monarch”
Tag Archives: ghostwriting
Choice
I consider the most central word in life to be: CHOICE. Not love, nor hope. Not freedom, or happiness, or acceptance. Nor is it togetherness, or faith, or health. To me, the word is Choice. You always have to have a choice in life, a choice to love, or to hope for love. A choiceContinue reading “Choice”
Fire Island Scribbles -3-
A super weird piece I don’t remember writing. I hesitated in posting a piece I did not like at all, but I felt it spoke for a day or two in my life in which I had such an urge to be a girl with an Albanian name and no Albanian background fixated on signs.Continue reading “Fire Island Scribbles -3-“
The Doctrine of Signatures
On one of the thirty-three islands they call home, my thoughts can rarely puddle up together to form droplets for a cloud to condense upon. They stagnate in the atmosphere; rarely falling to wash things away, adding to the methane gas emanating from the cow fields over many out-theres, alternating the amount of solar energyContinue reading “The Doctrine of Signatures”
The Woman who Hand-painted her Wall Indigo
When I was a student, there was a ravishing woman with peculiar thin Medusa hair whom I drove past every late morning. I stopped a couple of narrow town houses down from hers to throw my garbage out, where the garbage metal containers were all huddled near each other on a clearing made before aContinue reading “The Woman who Hand-painted her Wall Indigo”
Long Sentences on Short Flights
If I hadn’t cried that day at the airport by my flight’s gate with disconcerting openness, the mid-aged lady with the outrageously long acrylic nails and red flannel shirt tied around her waist would not have stared to then excuse herself from staring and amiably point out the mascara goop at the corner of myContinue reading “Long Sentences on Short Flights”
To Pour Out
… and then to just pour out of the cracked cup. Not from the rim like most people do – no – rather you’d be slowly tick tocking, drip dropping, out of the cup from the ruggedness of the crack. You won’t be so watery like most people are; you’d be thick like the consistentContinue reading “To Pour Out”
And Just Like That
And just like that, my love for him swelled, it overflowed over the rim of its cup and poured all over the table like a large boundless map of a suddenly borderless unknown world, which I newly marked here, and there, and here, and at the far end of it down there where Australia usedContinue reading “And Just Like That”
Record the Optimist’s Testimony
Those optimists, who see the good in everything, they often have to tread on the trail of their upbeat conviction alone. We have a general idea that bitter and negative people are the lonely ones, who are in need of the most help, compassion, coaxing and attention. On the contrary, it takes much more nerveContinue reading “Record the Optimist’s Testimony”
Within Minutes
In times of distress, all I plan for is to take some space. One of the places I go to is the sea, I sit on the hood of my car to be lulled and hypnotized by the breaking of the water on the shore. I watch my besieged thoughts as they squander spontaneously oneContinue reading “Within Minutes”
Beisan's Burble 