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I awoke with a punishing recollection: A winter day in Brooklyn, my coat peppered with snow as proof, in the distant past. Though my memory rarely serves me well, I’m positive this was close to a perfect day. However, if what I witness now is not mere cynicism but actually the truth, I may fear…
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I have a battle on my hands and I know it. Yours is a battle I cannot fight; I can imagine it is an exhausting one. There will be sadness, probably more than there is now, and that’s ok. Great sadness is the mark of a great thing being removed from this world, so it is…
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For the first 30 years of my life, I was not part of much in any meaningful way. I had my moments with family; I was well-behaved, polite, never set out to hurt anyone. Then again I never set out to do much of anything – I didn’t want to upset anyone, and I didn’t…
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Though it satisfies my selfish mind to align myself, to toe the line, I must move away from mirrored minds and reflective voices on the chorus line shouting “we are right and they are lying.” I want my beliefs to be challenged, and you secure enough to be challenged. I want to be without answers and…
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Fear of not being taken seriously. Fear of freedom and fear of light. Fear of being superfluous. Fear that you won’t love your enemy. Fear of not loving and fear of not loving enough. Fear that what you love will prove inconsequential. Fear of death. Fear of running out of time. Fear of things left…
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Though I am the bearer of fragility and foolishness, I harbor no hatred. I am the spark before judgment, the ghost disguising pride; I mustn’t give in to hatred.
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| Written as part of the Aesthete series Pat’s was a karaoke bar on Manhattan’s Upper East Side that was most likely mistaken by the neighborhood as just another Irish pub. From the outside it was hard to see it as anything worth remembering; the awning always in disrepair, the “specials” had seemingly gone unchanged…
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You are born with pure heart and mind, sound and lovely. I only know beauty born in reverse: after the bloodshed, death, and ghosts. But you know beauty before the plague. You see beauty and love as they exist, unlike me with my gratitude and admiration so necessary. You were born to be beloved –…
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It’s hard to make it home when you’re always on the wrong road As we drove deeper into Brooklyn and away from the madness in Manhattan I asked the driver to drop me several avenues away from my building. I decided I wanted to walk a bit – walking often brings me clarity. As I…
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“I am not what happened to me; I am what I choose to become.” ― Carl Jung I cannot recall my first memory. As I scan through my mind and search for memories I find something distinct from any concrete memory. I find a feeling instead; It is an overwhelming sense of fear. I have…