Just (burning) desserts.

You know pain the same way you know falling in love. All too well. And it has left you bruised up and broken like a busted light bulb unable to radiate once again. You know you can’t because you tried. The last few times, you were able to flicker, but the brightness did not last long enough. It may have lasted years, but the light died down. It seems to always return to darkness in the end and you have to unplug.

You’ve had that image of that broken light in you all this time. You’ve been carrying it with you since you flew to this crazy, cold country. That’s why it didn’t scare you to try and shop around for new things. Something that might bring that spark back up? You’re just going to test things out. You weren’t scared because you knew there’s nothing in you left to break.

Your heart had been broken years ago and it has stayed that way since. You believe you’ve had the love of your life, and it went to shit. Everything and every one else after could not compare, even though they’ve tried. You’ve tried too.

He was like you’ve tasted the best cake you’ve ever had. Perfect flavour, ideal consistency. But you had to give it up because that cake was damaging you in ways you didn’t realize until it was too late. That cake is the reason you still struggle with your own self-esteem. He wasn’t as great as you thought because he made you feel like shit. So you moved on, knowing you would never have that cake again, and you could go for ice cream instead anyway.

The problem is: you tasted one delicious ice cream that puts others to shame. Or was it more of an ice cream cake? You felt like it was an upgrade to your favourite cake, and it was satisfying. You had to have more, so you did. You forgot about what worries you had, let your walls down, and went in one spoonful at a time.

But like the cake before it, it consumed you as you consumed it. You’ve never had a healthy relationship with dessert. But you cannot put the spoon down. You’re pissed. You swear off all desserts, but you know yourself… You may be able to give up cake or ice cream, but you will always look for something sweet eventually.

So right now, you are frustrated at the thought of more dessert. But look at it this way. This feeling, that anger. That is proof you’ve still got something left in you to feel. You’re not as empty as you thought you were. You’ve still got a heart. It’s not as perfect as before, and others may break it today or tomorrow… but there’s still a spark left in you, so you can’t just give up.

Darling, you cannot play with fire without eventually getting yourself burned. Scorched. Charred.

xx

Excerpt #02

This is taken directly from a very short, 1200-word story I wrote for my creative writing class last semester.

I dare not publish the whole thing because this shit is basically autobiographical and I am not ready to admit to the world where I (specifically) got my inspiration-slash-foundation from. If anyone knows my story, the omitted paragraphs will definitely give it away, and I don’t want that. No. You don’t get to know this story began with you. Not yet. Not today.

You don’t even clock in thirty hours a week at the restaurant you work at. Sure, you can make bank on tips during weekends, but at what cost? You hardly have the energy to practice your writing at the end of a 12-hour day. Your how-to books on writing are all over the floor. You can’t even afford a new bookshelf. Your mail is on the floor too, right beside the take-out box from that Chinese place you ordered from last night. Is that a stain on the carpet? Has it been always there? And what is that smell? Is it coming from the garbage or the fridge? Your place looks like a dump—oh, honey, just face it. Your life is a goddamn mess! Fix it!

Continue reading “Excerpt #02”

Excerpt #027

What’s the point of living, when we’re all just going to die? What’s the point of making memories when we won’t remember anything? The thought of nothingness, non-existence, oblivion consumes me. What’s holding any one back from simply ending their reality right this moment?

I hear a light knock on my door. “Dinner’s ready.”

In a moment, the universe answers: the people we’ll leave behind. Live for them. They will remember.