Do not listen to all that they say, my child; my womb is not impermeable to their words, unfortunately. This language they speak shines a subtly blinding streak of light, it has a way of seeping through the thickest skin and imprinting marks on your genetic makeup. You will come out to live among themContinue reading “Letter to an Inner Child”
Tag Archives: writingservices
Quote
Written and posted on October 12th, 2019 Edited at the end of December 2024, after having mothered my son for 3.5 years. I never edit my old writings, but this one kept pinching me in bed and I could not sleep: You were only able to contain me because you were separate from me. YouContinue reading “Quote”
Fire Island Scribbles -2-
A cloudy humid day for smudgy Maybelline mascara. For Haruki Murakami’s maze of people and indirect insults. For imagining a world without women. For allowing oneself to imagine a world without women. For really not being so self-centred. For letting oneself not think about oneself. For broken Havaianas and lazy drags of flip-flopped feet alongContinue reading “Fire Island Scribbles -2-“
A Prism of Possibilities
This, today. I wish you could carve it along the walls of your home. One of the most remarkable ordinary days is occurring unreasonably. Today had no incentive to start so kindly, but it did. Something tells me that the magic of your growth is the actual source of this prismatic primitive feeling. This letterContinue reading “A Prism of Possibilities”
Writer’s Block
It’s been days that I am in a “writer’s block” cove, unable to wriggle myself out. It feels damp and stuffy in here, and seriously dusty. The people in here smell like rancid sour judgements. Today is the day I flick off the guards and police of thoughts standing by this cove. Protecting all that’sContinue reading “Writer’s Block”
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”
Rock Bottom
It’s past midnight now. After hours of online research with the commercial tunes of the latest Albanian hits playing from YouTube for inspiration, another good portion of my brain is officially numbed to render me calm and useless for work. I am sitting on the edge of the low windowsill with the window open, lookingContinue reading “Rock Bottom”
But First, Coffee
My eyes felt heavy, but I didn’t let them rest after the too-much they had stayed open for, and the much-more they were waiting for to happen. I blinked very fast, too. In case you turned to look my way and find me mid-blink, then you might have thought my eyes are resting so myContinue reading “But First, Coffee”
Chrysanthemums & Berliners
“It’s not so easy!” My granddaughter cried. I looked down at the wrinkles on my knuckles and stretched a leathery fold on one of them. I waited until the skin slowly retracted to its place; I lingered momentarily at the shape it made, that of a half-moon or a lopsided grin. Then I looked atContinue reading “Chrysanthemums & Berliners”
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”
Beisan's Burble 