Let's Make a Movie

Let's make a movie called 'Alternate Realities'

Where everything's a little like 'Sliding Doors' but we don't all have to be

Gwenyth Paltrow.

And hopefully it doesn't turn out

As another vehicle for a love story.

We can all slip In and Out of our various Selves as we

Wander from Timeline to Timeline

Discovering which Parallel Universe pans out the best.

Tracing it Back to that
One

Precise

Instant

That a mundane happenstance alters our lives forever.

We can switch swatch through other people's Realities trying to get it

Right.

Making sure the Relationships and Camaraderies

That seem meaningful and consequential

Continue to Intertwine with our own.

Censoring Tragedies and Missteps until

We're satisfied with our Ultimate Design.

Time will push back, of course,

And each Existence and Actuality

Will fight with our self-appointed 

Utopia of a Universe.

Until right as we settle on the final touch,

We swirl.

Us, Our Chosen Companions,

  Our Accomplishments,

    Our Failures,

       Our Perfect Little Lives,

Twirl with the rest of the Alternate Realities.
And leave us tired, wet, and broken.

Shattered memories and 

Splintered recollections.

A mess.

On the floor.

Roll Credits.

Curtains Down.

House Lights Up.

Dear Insecurity

Dear Me,

I know you won't heed my advice.
I know you want to learn you own lessons.

Make your own mistakes.

Live your own life.

And, by all means, you are welcome to.

But believe me, I've been there.

I've done that.

And I'm sure I'll do it again.

[one]

Heartache is temporary.
But real. 

Oh, so real. 

Feel it to its fullest.

Don't let anyone talk you out of being hurt. Being lost. Being devastated.

But know that it will fade in time.

Sometimes you will wish it faded faster.

Cleaner.

But a part of you will always miss the things you left behind.

The things you forgot to help yourself heal.

And part of you will always hurt because of it.

Each heartache is different.

A snowflake of intricate, sharp and biting pangs.

It will melt in time.

Spring will always follow Winter.

[two]

You are smart and strong and beautiful.

You do not feel this.

You will never feel this.

But wake up some days in the mirror and tell yourself these things.

Maybe some days you will believe it.

Maybe some day you'll be me with more confidence.

More love for yourself.

Try it.

For us.

[three]

Care about something.

It's easy not to..

And I'm honestly not sure how to advise you to do this.

I guess I'm just selfishly hoping you figure this out.

[four]

You Do You.

There's a lot of things I would stop myself from doing as a younger me.

There's a lot of things I would encourage myself to do more.

But the past is all part of me. Of you. Of us.

Hurt yourself.

Hide yourself.

Love the wrong ones.

Take the risky chances.

Learn you own lessons.

Make your own mistakes.

Live your own life.

I'll see you soon.

Writing Assignment Four: I Met Him on the Stairs

My day was already a clusterfuck.

I had slept through my first class. My rushed morning shower doused me with solely ice cold water. My cereal was stale. I was on the verge of running late for my Psych Mid-Term.

And, of course, the elevator was broken.

A cool October breeze snuck into the building as some random student stole out into the streets. My notebook blew open, scattering my already dishevelled notes from my hand to the ground. I rushed to grab them, stacking them haphazardly in a pile and back into the notebook.

The stairs. I'm not sure if a thought can be muttered, but that is how this one felt. Now where the hell are the stairs? My eyes frantically scanned the room, inquiring at each doorway and what lay behind them.

An earthen red door with a well-worn silver "Emergency Door"-style pushbar beckoned.

I pushed through rapidly.

Idiotically, I paused to look up. Did I expect to see all five floors of stairs at once? Was I expecting to view and assess the situation here, from the ground floor? The bottom of the first flight of stairs taunted me with its grey grim starkness.

I plundered onward and upward.

I vaguely remembered hearing another door somewhere farther up open and shut swiftly, but it gave me no pause. I was already in a tizzy. I was already almost late.

It was then that I met him on the stairs.

He was rushing too, but in the opposite direction. Our opposing forces collided with an audible thud and it reeled me backwards into the wall. My notebook dropped from my hands, once again scattering paper like the flyaway seeds of puffy white dandelion. We both reached to pick them up at once, bumping hands in the process.

I looked up to apologize but he was too engrossed in collecting all the notes. He was rushing in a way that felt as if he was trying to be helpful but, frankly, he didn't have the time for it. His frame looked frail and thin. His hair, black and slick. When he finally met my gaze, his light grey eyes were barely visible behind the thick lenses in this equally thick framed glasses.

"Here." He somewhat shoved his collected papers at me.

"Thanks," I offered, trying to convey how appreciative I was of his limited time. He straightened up to full height and I noticed how towering he was. He was like Roald Dahl's Lankiest Skinniest Giant. I paused to consider if he was tall enough to have to duck when going through doorways.

"It's nothing," he countered and briefly, almost awkwardly, touched his fingertips to the inside of the wrist that held my papers. He held my gaze in an arresting stare. The combination of this gesture and look caused all my movements and thoughts to cease for a brief moment of time. Why didn't I jerk my hand backwards? Why couldn't I respond? Wasn't I late for something?

I had no response so I merely closed my gaping mouth and nodded at him. I moved again to take the steps upward.

He nodded back and we parted ways. He disappeared like a swift wind -- the kind that precedes a warm summer storm. He was out of sight by the time I swivelled my head back to look.

As I entered the classroom, I was clearly late. The professor was already talking, the class was silent, and the slam of the door as I entered was a Scarlet Letter of tardiness. I kept my eyes down and slid into the seat closest to the exit. My heart slowed to its normal pace and I tried to transition my brain into Test Taking Mode.

I focused.

And I'm pretty sure I aced the Mid-Term.

As I gathered my things as the end of class, I spotted an out of place page in my notebook. The paper itself didn't match and, as I pulled it out, I realized the handwriting wasn't mine.

"Thanks for the time." The perfect cursive struck me as beautiful. You don't see penmanship like that anymore, I thought.

As I folded up the note, I noticed my bare wrist. The wrist his small slight hand had rested upon. The bastard has stolen my watch! The watch my grandmother gave me in her will. The one with the small simple clock face. The delicate hands. The engraving on the back to "Adela Romesca Gavin."

The bastard had stolen my watch.

Letting Go.

(Day 30: React to this term - Letting Go)

Sometimes you hold on to things. Memories. People. Hurt. Love. Fear. Pain. Joy.

Sometimes this can be great. But sometimes.. it can be best to just let it go.

Life Lessons.

(Day 23: Things You've Learned That School Won't Teach You)

Many of life's lessons were, indeed, learned outside the classroom. Some that come to mind at the moment are:

1) Be Nice

People, on the whole, can be frustrating sometimes. They can be especially so if you've been having a long, tiring, exasperating day/week/year. But, I've learned, that in general you should give them the benefit of the doubt and be nice. Always put your best foot forward. You cannot reverse your actions. You cannot rewind time. It is better to leave a pleasant memory than a negative one.

2) Be Patient

As with the last life lesson, this one can be hard. Be patient with others. Be patient with yourself. And be patient, in general, with time.

3) Take Time to Relax

Life can be fast-paced. Life can throw a lot at you. Take time to breathe. Take time to lay down and take a load off. Sometimes reflection helps make more sense of a situation. Or sometimes it just feels nice to get off your feet and lay your head in a soft pillow.

4) Floss

This one seems silly, but damn! Dentist bills can be expensive. 

Breathe.

(Day 8: A piece of advice you have for others. Anything at all.)

I'm not great at advice.  But one thing I have been living by all my life is the simple mantra:

Breathe.  Take life one day at a time.

Life can be tough. Stressful. Worrying. 
Life can throw crazy things at you. Simple joys. Tragic heartbreaks. New challenges. New quandaries.

But the thing I have found that has been true throughout it all is that: Time heals all.

This can be tough advice to follow. The hurt can be excruciating while you're waiting. The challenge can seem to almost break you. But fear not; this too shall pass. 

The future is crazy and unpredictable. I cannot guarantee that, while you're toughing it out, life will not throw you another curve ball. 

But you are strong. 
And tomorrow is another day.