there are different versions of realities: the one i am living, the one you are living, the one that we all share, and the One Truth above it all. as much as we attempt to craft lenses for others so that they may see the world the way we do, it is rarely, if ever,… Continue reading reality, let go
Author: Marryam
a sea of irrelevance
“We were keeping our eye on 1984. When the year came and the prophecy didn’t, thoughtful Americans sang softly in praise of themselves. The roots of liberal democracy had held. Wherever else the terror had happened, we, at least, had not been visited by Orwellian nightmares. But we had forgotten that alongside Orwell’s dark vision,… Continue reading a sea of irrelevance
forgive yourself
When we are young, many of our good actions are taught in how we relate to others. We shouldn't lie to or hurt someone. When we make a mistake, we should say sorry. Less often are we taught to practice these same good traits towards ourselves. It is not that difficult to forgive others when… Continue reading forgive yourself
the art of disappearing
When they say Don’t I know you? say no. When they invite you to the party remember what parties are like before answering. Someone is telling you in a loud voice they once wrote a poem. Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate. Then reply. If they say We should get together say why? It’s… Continue reading the art of disappearing
fall
the sun set trees on fire, releasing dying embers, pirouettes in the wind. i count them, like i count the minutes until the day ends, like i will count the dust on that last day, when i can look up a final time from underneath it all. there are no faces above me tonight. just… Continue reading fall
worth
where is the world of honest men? when there was so much worth in the human soul, that our word was enough to stop death, when honor and truth was worth far more than what we wanted in our heads? we live in a world where it is celebrated to want it all, without any… Continue reading worth
the cycle
it is a fact that the grass is much greener where you water it, yet while these stiff blades craved a flood the salty waterworks provided a temporary wonder until the salt reached its roots and stung my tongue, licking long lost wounds a reminder— the grass that is dead can yet still be watered