what else are you supposed to do in the suburbs?
find everything abandoned and go there at night?
thrift shop?
idle around the same mall and buy candles, journals, CDs (for your lack of cd player, except in your mom's car)?
see the same movie twice (the fire alarm goes off both times)?
throw wine bottles at pavement and watch the glass splinter?
run around empty ovals?
break into baseball fields?
go to the same public pool and open your eyes underwater?
burn lacy lingerie that you stole from the mall and watch as your femininity sticks, shrivelled, to the pavement?
go to school and get the bus home?
go to work and come home covered in pizza sauce?
hate it till you leave?
what else even is there?

The war in those days

was manageable with us --


We were still young then.

When she first met him,
He was so slim;
A gentleman,
To begin.
When she first met him.

When he first met her,
She was so demure;
She'd defer,
Often concur.
When he first met her.

She'd smile on him.
He'd open doors.
She cooked and worked.
He worked and cooked.

Good morning, my Dear.
Good night, my Love.
I got groceries.
Did you get milk?
I called your Mother.
Is your Father okay?
Teacher interviews at five.
I'll drive.
Did you get to the bank?
I made an appointment.
What's the address?
Your sister's on her way.

This was their dialogue
On that day.

She's kind.
He's a find.
He's hers.
She's his.

Ever the twain shall meet.

If given the chance to have 5 minutes with you, I want to share this with you:

Your music keeps me going. You may have heard that sentence a thousand times. So, if you would allow me to paint you a picture.

I work in a job I don't like. The job itself is not bad. It's actually very meaningful. I thought meaningful was enough for me. Apparently, it is not; I want it to be both meaningful and something I truly enjoy.

Enjoy in a sense that even though it's difficult, it is something I'll wake up for. It's something that would make me forget time. And for me, that is singing, acting, performing, and teaching. But it is not my reality right now.

So, every Monday, I drag myself to work. As each day passes, the guilt of being late subsides to none. Sadly, the thought of having a responsibility to other people has become less compelling for me to work. I've spiraled into deeper, and darker realms where I've lost control over my mind and body.

And to force myself, a desperate attempt to get up, I play your songs. Next thing I know, I sing your tune, dance to your beat, then the impossible starts to happen. I begin to cook food for myself to eat, I open my laptop, and get started on my emails -- I finally have enough to start my day, to get it going.

These maybe simple, mundane things -- but they mean my livelihood, my future, my life. You help me live my life.

Thank you for your music. I hope you stay truthful to your tune, to your beat, to your message.

कुसमयमा
मलाई सोधियो
"त्यो मुर्ख छ, कसरी व्यवहार गर्ने ?"

मैले प्रतीप्रश्न गरे, "के तिमी पक्का छाै कि ऊ मुर्ख छ?
[ हो जवाफ आउने प्रवल सम्भावना थियो, म सुन्न तयार थिए ]

"हो, सबैलाई यो थाहा छ।" सोही जवाफ आयो

सक्छाै भने दूरी बढाउ
टाढा बस
त्यती सक्दैनै भने..........

"भने के" सोधीहाल्यो

भन्दिए,
"उ भन्दा मुर्ख बन"
"ठूलो मुर्ख देखि, मुर्खपनि डराउछ"

फोन राखेको संकेत आयो.......

You were three blocks away
Going to the same destination
But you wouldn't stop
In the cold and rain
Never asked if I needed help
Didn't offer a ride which would've
Saved me 40 minutes of time
And an awkward conversation
With a man who invited me back to his
I considered his offer
Partly out of spite
Partly out of hope
That he would slash my throat
And I wouldn't have to return home
I rubbed my cheeks, suddenly grateful
No one can tell when you've cried in the rain
I guess we've always been three blocks
Apart from one another, you and I