Falling, In Love

[Originally posted May, 2018. 30 days of prose, day 10. – Owen] Falling in love is like stepping off of a flying airplane; them loving you back would be the parachute. But that parachute doesn’t always open. Splat. Love in relationships always comes with risk. We can’t know what others are really thinking, and we … Continue reading "Falling, In Love"

Greetings from Home

A Sunday in January, 2021, and I am on a walking trail at a local park. The sun is setting. There are maybe six people here; in pre-plague days, I would see closer to a hundred. This park consists of a lake, a trail, and around 15 different picnic areas. We walked here often when … Continue reading "Greetings from Home"

A Lesson

If you would change the world, First seek to understand, For things don’t always go Exactly as we planned And it gets hard to clearly think With passions running strong, Or even to consider that It might be us Who’s wrong = = = = = First day of class. Taking notes. Subject: Polemics. “The … Continue reading "A Lesson"

From My Age 17 Diary

“There’s someone out there for everybody” is what girls tell you when they’re pretty sure no one they know, or could imagine knowing, would have you. Why do people stay in horror movies? Couldn’t they just walk off set? “If your friends drove off a cliff, would you—“ “Have been the one to suggest it? … Continue reading "From My Age 17 Diary"

The 6 Ages of Sorrow

There’s that year you realize, you aren’t as good at things as the other kids are. There’s that age when you find out what it is to love someone with all that you are, only to find that all that you are means nothing whatsoever to the other person. There’s the day when you realize … Continue reading "The 6 Ages of Sorrow"

Summertime, 15 Years Old.

Summertime, 15 years old. I would practice the piano a few hours in the mornings, then head out on my bicycle. I would ride out, some days, to a little town called Seminole, on the far north part of the bay about 8 or so miles away. Other days, I would go in the opposite … Continue reading "Summertime, 15 Years Old."

Hit The Door

To hit the door and keep on going, That is his desire; To turn his back and just walk out, To leave it all behind – So many people, everywhere Become a slave to something, And turn to powder underneath A voluntary Grind If you had it to do all over again, would you? Your … Continue reading "Hit The Door"