Writing Marathon

image (1)Mom’s

How do you write what you can’t say? What you can’t even think? I don’t like this place, why did we come here? Why did I get out of bed? I wore a dress that I like that might cheer me up, I even wore my favorite shoes. I get to hang out with my favorite guy but even that doesn’t heer me up. WTF?

Sometimes in life, you just have to eat a disappointing quinoa paddie with sour salsa and bitter spiniach and keep on moving, because you can. You have to do it because others can’t. To honor them, to honor your mom who works so hard and at your age, had to leave everything behind for what she thought would be a better life, but she left her surgery rooms and scrubs for an apron and a few dollars in tips. She left it all behind for this, for you.

Why does there have to be a moral to every story? Do I have to learn from everything? What am I really upset about? Why am I so upset right now?

What promise do you want from me? Why does the sun make fun of how feel? Why can’t I just stay in bed until it all goes away?

I often think about those who can’t stay in bed, those who have to keep moving and keep going because they have no bed, no home, no promises, no family, no friends, no disappointing quinoa paddie. And what is life about if you can’t have a bad day to appreciate the good days?


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