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Wake Up Full
Do you remember the nights we spent filling each other up?
You, eating my sleep as a feast.
And me, filling with your exhaustion.
Draining and bursting.
Bite down on the flesh of my dreams one last time?
Let me dig my teeth into your late nights?
Swallow down your slumber as you inhale my evening repose.
I know you’re starving, love.
So am I.
All of my love,
your sleepless nights
Stop Thinking
I never thought it would feel this way, not like this. I thought being in love was supposed to be warm and soft, beautiful and strong with bits of passion and laughter.
I thought it would be smiles that last for days and warm kisses on the cheek on cold nights when the snow seemed endless and the chilled air bit at the delicate edges of my ears. I thought it would be open arms and comforting words during times of self-doubt and encouragement when I didn’t feel I was enough. Maybe I’m too much of a romantic or maybe I dreamt a bit too big.
I know it shouldn’t feel this way.
The truth is, reality is not kind or soft. Reality is not forgiving or understanding, there’s no promise of patience or hope. Reality screams at us, “What you see is what you get!” That statement rings through the corridors of my mind, bouncing off empty walls and closed doors and settles here at my feet.
I guess I didn’t look close enough, or my vision wasn’t clear enough, or I didn’t take enough time to understand the full picture. Maybe the full picture was never real and I filled in the empty spaces with hopes and dreams locked inside the mind of a woman who never figured out how to stop feeling like a little girl.
I’m not supposed to feel like this.
That was my first mistake, I held onto innocence I never had to begin with. The second mistake was holding onto pain because I was too afraid to feel anything outside of that, or maybe it wasn’t fear but that twisted comfort that comes from feeling the sting of salty tears burning raw skin.
My thoughts try to comfort me with words that feel empty. Social media calls to me, offering its mind numbing medicine to keep that fake smile spread across my face. We’ve all painted this picture of lies. We’ve all fed the scam of what “real love” should be.
We all secretly know it’s not supposed to happen like this.
Today I woke up with a clarity I’ve never felt before. I sat in front of the water-stained mirror, focusing on small spots of shaving cream and toothpaste that escaped during your morning routine of pointing out all the reasons why I was inadequate, the same routine that left me broken so many mornings that I lost the strength to look at my own reflection.
But there she was, the person I covered up for you. There she was, smiling back at me with that same hope in her eyes, that innocence I used to carry. Right then and there I found her, in the midst of all the chaos she held her hand out to me.
And as quickly as she appeared she was gone, lost in the dozens of notifications buzzing from all of the social media apps craving my attention. Devices that let society mold the reality that had allowed me to become so broken.
It shouldn’t be this way.
I don’t blame him for the abuse, I don’t blame myself for allowing it. Society lied to me, to all of us about true love, about real struggle, about the raw and unforgiving nature of life. Society broke us and society gave us the “cure”. Society told us to expect, to assume, to grow up with a sense of entitlement and then it scolded us for doing just that.
They gave us the handbook on love filled with pages and pages of fables painted in the colors of truth. Distorted representations of what life should look like were fed to us and when no one could live up to the unattainable standards set within the hundreds of rules that seemed to contradict each other, we started pretending.
“Fake it ’til you make it.” So I did and I was great at acting. We all did, we all lied to ourselves and some of us were too naive to see the truth for what it was.
So I’m saying goodbye, and it’s not because I don’t love you or because I feel you’ve failed me in any way. I’m saying goodbye because I can’t pretend I’m fine, I can’t pretend to want the empty promises that toxic book offers, the same promises you’ve regurgitated time and time again.
You know as well as I do, you can’t give me any of those things. You don’t understand why you feel hollow all the time, but I do. You want your own version of love, one that’s written by you, one that is truly you.
You’ll find yourself in my place one day, or maybe you won’t and that’s okay. I’m too smart to continue to fall for the cheap version of love we so readily accept, I’m worth more than that. I’ve settled far too many times. I’m leaving this false world and I’m asking you to follow, when you’re ready.
There are no rules to life and love shouldn’t feel like possession.
Follow me, I’ll love you.
-A.e.
Here’s My Gratitude!
I’m so glad I came across this group. Writing for me was always an important part of my life; since the age of about 12 I kept almost daily journals detailing my insights on my experiences, my pondering, my hopes and dreams. Carefully, my ever growing collection of diary books of various sizes followed me through every house move. I’d often read back in time, and smile to myself. Then at 27, one day I realised with utter devastation that all my books were gone!! Vanished, missing! I asked everyone in the house about it but got nowhere.
My heart was shattered into a million peices at this violation, and I never wrote anything again, until my first post on here.
Something within me was pushing me to write!
So thank you so much for this safe and supportive environment, the advice, the support, the encouragement, the challenges. Most of all, a huge thank you to my followers, who have been particularly encouraging! @demcmurphy @whiskeyglitter @BonnieBoo @Lost Soul90 @TAJthe writer @Teresalee @Teda @amatav
Begin Again.
Meg
Do you know why the trees lose their leaves, why they change to brilliant color only to drift silently to the ground waiting to be frozen in a frost? I ponder the thought as I walk. I am a leaf silently waiting for the inevitable. I hear the sound of crunching beneath my feet. Someday, I will crunch like a leaf under the weight of passing time. Time, seasons, change. It’s all so unavoidable. I hold on like a leaf waiting for the next wind to snatch me away from the branch that gives me life.
November 18, 2018
The lives we live are fleeting.
Clocks keep ticking.
We try to manage, spend, and make time.
We fear we’ll waste it.
A futile attempt to control what is no more than a construct.
We aren’t moving through time. Time moves through us.
I close my notebook. The ink has smudged as I moved my hand left to right across the page. My writing, like roots, keeps me grounded. I take the last drink of my now lukewarm coffee. Why do I even bother with the last drink? I know by now its cooled and will leave a bad aftertaste. Still for some reason, after I finish my writing and before I leave the coffee shop, I take that last disappointing drink of coffee.
I walk down the street toward campus. It’s a half hour walk but I prefer it to driving. I glance down at my phone, 9:02. Awesome, I’m going to be late to my first class. 120 seconds of class time I am paying for.
Ben
“Ben! Get out of bed bro. It’s 9:15, your class starts at 9:30.” I roll out of bed onto the floor. I glance under my bed and find a crumpled up dollar bill.
“Trevor, is this your dollar? It was under my bed.”
“Why would my dollar be under your bed Ben?”
I shrug. I guess I’ll grab a soda on my way to class. I need the extra caffeine anyway. Rehearsal for the musical went crazy late last night. We had to redo blocking for an entire number because the director felt “inspired in another direction”. I feel inspired too, inspired to get out of rehearsal at a reasonable hour. There are only two weeks until the play though. This is what the next two weeks of my life will look like. Late nights, busy weekends, sodas in the morning. I put the dollar bill in my pocket.
I get to the vending machine just outside my dorm. I pull the still crumbled bill out of my pocket, run it against the side of the machine to flatten it and put it into the bill slot. The machine sucks it up, I push the button and get my soda. I glance down at my phone. 9:30, I’m going to be a couple of minutes late. At least I have my soda. I twist off the cap and take a drink.
Clock
The time is 9:30. I hang on a wall in a hall dominated by English majors. My face sees many things. Most of the students have arrived to their 9:30 English class save two. Meg rounds the corner. Meg, interesting, she’s not usually late. She drops her notebook and bends over to pick it up. As soon as she bends over someone smashes into her. Who is this? Ah yes, Ben, running late, as usual. He bolts around this corner before every 9:30 class. First time I’ve seen a collision though. And a bad one at that. Looks like Ben was carrying a soda. Said soda is now all over Ben and Meg. A perfect sticky mess. Ben tries to apologize but Meg just walks away.
Meg
I open the door to my classroom at 9:35. It’s bad enough that I was going to be 2 minutes late. I am now 5 minutes late thanks to a collision in the hall. A guy came running around the corner and crashed into me. He covered me in soda. I take a seat. What an excellent morning this is turning out to be. I listen as the professor begins her lecture. At least I haven’t missed anything.
It’s the first class so we go over the syllabus. I always find it tiring to read through a syllabus in class. I’m an adult, I can read it myself. Instead, I sit through class and listen as my peers ask questions that are only making our professor take even longer to explain what she has already explained, right here, in the syllabus. Just read it. I skim over the assignments for the class. They are typical of a literature class. It looks like the basic format is reading a book a week and writing a review. Easy enough.
“Okay class”, Prof Berkey says, “We are going to take a minute to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you say your name, your major, and why you chose it.”
I panic. I hate these moments of forced sharing. One by one my classmates stand up to share. It’s my turn. I stand.
“I’m Meg. I am an English major. I chose to be an English major because I enjoy writing. It helped me pass the time as a kid. Now it has become a passion.”
I sit down. My words echo in my head. It helped me pass the time. Time has always felt desperately slow to me.
Ben
I made it to class five minutes late. I had this awkward moment in the hall. I was running around the corner and ran into this girl who was picking something up off the ground. She just introduced herself to the class her name is Meg, an english major. It is my turn to introduce myself. I stand.
“I’m Ben. I’m an art major. I chose to become an art major because my dad loved art and taught me to love it too.”
I take my seat. A few more people share. I glance up at the clock. 10:55. Only five minutes to go. This class has flown by.
After class I stop by the musical director’s office.
“Hey Mike, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Hello Ben, why don’t you sit down.”
I take a seat. I am not sure what I am even doing in his office. I just know I need to share my thoughts about the musical. I stare down at my hands.
“What’s going on Ben?”
“Well,” I search my mind for the right words, “it’s just that I am having a hard time remembering my lines and the blocking for the scene we went over last night. I’m not sure I can do this. Maybe you should have Jeffery take my role. He knows all my lines and is ready to go on if I can’t. Jeffery has acted in plenty of plays. He is better than me anyway. I just can’t believe there are only two weeks left until the show and I don’t know. I just…I’m sorry but you picked the wrong guy.”
“No, I didn’t. I’ll see you at rehearsal tonight Ben.”
The only response I could come up with were these three words, “Um, yeah, okay.”
I got up and left the room. That conversation didn’t turn out how I thought it would. I thought about his words, “No, I didn’t”. How could he be sure? My insecurities press down on me. I take a deep breath. As I walk down the hall I pull out my headphones. Music always calms me. I find myself rushing down the hall for some reason. I try to slow my pace.
Meg
As I am walking out of class my phone rings. I look down at the caller ID. It’s my sister, Liz. I pick up the phone.
“Hey, what’s up. Just got out of class.”
“Meg”
Her voice sounds shaky on the other end of the line. She never sounds this way.
“Are you alright Liz?”
“Meg. I’m pregnant.”
Her words came in through my ear and bounced around in my head. I couldn’t process the information. Liz, my kid sister, pregnant at 16.
“Who is the dad Liz?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean I don’t know,” she says. Her tone was a strange mix of angry and scared.
“I don’t understand,” I respond.
“Meg, I was at this party a couple of months ago and we were drinking. I know I shouldn’t have but I did. And I drank too much and well, I don’t remember what happened. I must have had sex that night because I don’t remember having sex at any other time. That’s the only time I don’t remember and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should ask people who were at the party. I can’t tell people I am pregnant. Aunt Stacy can’t know. If mom and dad were around they would be so disappointed. I just,” her voice is breaking up.
“I’m scared.”
She went silent on the other end of the line. I don’t know what to say. I can’t process the information. I want to help but I literally can’t even find words. We sit in silence for about thirty seconds. All of the emotions I can think of are welling up inside me. All I can think to do is offer to be with her. “I’ll come home this weekend and we can figure this out. Ok Liz? This will be okay.”
I hear her crying now.
“Ok. I’ll see you in a few days Meg.”
We hang up the phone. I walk back toward my apartment. As I retrace my path from this morning in reverse I look up at the trees. The sun shines through them. I look at a brilliant yellow tree. A breeze blows and I zip up my jacket. I watch a single leaf fall from a branch and drift slowly down. For the first time in its life it touches the ground. A car drives by and I’m startled by its speed. The conversation with Liz plays over again in my head. All of the emotions I experienced during the conversation mix together and settle in my chest. They blend together and create a dull ache inside of me. “She’s pregnant,” I said it outloud to no one in particular. Though the words left my lips there are no ears to hear them. It’s like they have never been spoken.
Follow Child’s Lead
i twirl
spin around
till I bump into
a frail, weary lookin’
silver~haired person
Papa quickly grabs
my hand & tells me
to look away
i pull my hand away
and give the person a
bag of cookies, ‘n’
blueberry muffins.
i wave to them with a
gleeful cheer, and smile
before I am lifted off the
ground and Papa takes
me home without ever
even looking at the
person who’s all alone.
#FollowChild’sLead
Harry Situation Reviews: A Star is Born
A Star is Born is the musical romantic drama directed, co-written, and stars Bradley Cooper, and it also stars Lady Gaga, minus all the crazy makeup and outfits. The story is about a washed-up musician (played by Bradley Cooper) meets a woman (played by Lady Gaga) who aspires to be a singer. Together they help make her dreams become a reality and fall in love. This film is apparently a remake of the original 1976 version of the same name, which is also a remake of the 1954 version, which is a remake of the original 1937 of the same name.
I can't really compare this movie to the previous versions, mainly because I haven't seen them. But I wanted to see what the buzz was about for this movie, and I gotta say... I loved this movie.
This is Bradley Cooper's first debut as a film director, and I think he may have a future in film directing. Not only that, his performance in this film was amazing. He essentially portrays this great musician that's hitting rock bottom because of his alcoholism and drug abuse. Not to mention that his character is at risk of loosing his hearing. Yet Cooper masterfully potrays him as a human being that's given one more chance at happiness when he mets Lady Gaga's character, and he seems a lot happier whenever he's with her. It's very believable. And he's an incredible singer too. Seriously, that's his singing voice in the whole movie. Bradley Cooper has proven himself that he's more than just one of the funny guys from The Hangover or a talking trash panda from the MCU. This film is a testament to how multi-talented this man is. He could be the next Clint Eastwood. I mean it.
And Lady Gaga, holy shit, Lady Gaga was spectacular in this film. I'll admit that I'm not a big fan of her or her music, but her performance and her incredible vocals just may be enough to change my mind. Absolutely one of the best performances I've seen all year. I think she'll definitely have a future in acting too. If she gets nominated (and wins) an Academy Award for her performance, she deserves it. I'd also like to point out that I think that she's way hotter in this film without all that makeup and costumes.
The romance between Gaga and Cooper is a true hollywood dream. Someone famous falls for another and they help each other achieve their dreams and overcome their obstacles. It's truly beautiful, and it helps when the chemistry between these two feels so real and believable. And when they first sang together, that was the moment that won me over. You'll be rooting for them the whole way through.
Also, I have to mention another stellar performance done by Sam Elliot, who portrays Bradley Cooper's older brother/manager. He's only in the film for about 7-8 minutes, but dammit he gives it his best. One scene in particular that stood out was where Bradley Cooper tells him how he always admired him, and you can see how choked up Sam Elliot is from that delivery that he's trying so hard to hold his tears, with not a single line of dialogue. He deserves an award too for that. Absolutely tremendous.
The music is also amazing. Each song mesmorizes you in every possible way, as much as it mesmorizes the actors performing them. Three songs stick out the most to me: "Always Remember Us This Way", "Shallow", and "I'll Never Love Again". These three were by far the most powerful songs I've heard from any movie to date. My personal favorite is "I'll Never Love Again" because of the powerful emotion it draws and the incredible pitches that Lagy Gaga could reach in this song.
This is also one helluva emotionally charged film to watch. From watching Lady Gaga achieve her dreams to witnessing Cooper spiral out of control, it cannot help but feel for every moment that happens in the film. Just a warning, be sure to bring tissues if you plan on watching this movie. You'll need them.
What I always loved most about going to see a movie in a theater is that there's always going to be that one movie that'll absolutely surprise you in the best way. This is definitely one of those movies. In my opinion, this is one of the best films I've seen all year. So much so that I've seen it twice this week. I have a very good feeling that this movie will be a big contender for next year's Academy Awards, and I'm rooting for it and its stellar cast.
Positives:
-Bradley Cooper's directing
-Cooper's peformance
-Lady Gaga's performance
-Sam Elliot's performance
-Incredible songs & music
-Beautiful love story
-Emotional powerhouse
-One of the best films this year
Negatives:
-None
Final Grade: A+
This movie may have been release a month ago, but I'm lucky that my local theater was still showing it. So those are my thoughts on A Star is Born. Have you seen it already? What were your thoughts? Please be kind, leave a like and comment, and check out more AGrade reviews here on Prose!
Best Quote:
Jack: "Hey!"
Ally: "What?"
Jack: "I just wanted to take another look at you."
#harrysituationreviews #film #opinion #romance #drama #music #AGrade
Gasping For Air
I blew up half the city. I panted out of breath as I focused on the plans. The jumble of wires was causing focus to evade my mind. There were papers and scraps everywhere blowing in the wind. I tried to catch some of them to no avail. I needed to succeed before time was up. If I didn’t complete this task I wouldn’t get paid. If I didn’t get paid, I’d have to leave my beautiful home that I had spent so long preparing.
I hate this, I hate it all. The colors, The burning lungs, The stinging in my eyes.
I turned to the last page of my instruction. The last page that says:
USE HELIUM TO INFLATE THE BALLOON CITY
I sat down hard, head in my hands. I blew up half the city under my own lungpower. If only I had read the instructions.
This is the first challenge I'm entering for @famewriter 's challenge. I am unsure if I'm tagging correctly.
Vega & Altair
My fiery body remembers him better than my mind could ever recall. And on the seventh day of the seventh month my fingertips still reach for him. The sparks flying across the sky. Tiny balls of burning light shooting across our galaxy from the ends of my hands. Flaming prayers, begging the blazing river to carry me to him. Yet Vega remains separated from Altair.
He was always a star. And I, a princess. My father, the king of fire water, took charge over the stars. Altair was a guide. A lantern for the lost. Day in and day out he saved those who ventured off-course. Day in and day out I wove ribbons of flaming water into coats of celestial matter so that Altair might shine even brighter. My father’s most trusted page, Deneb, would deliver these luminous knits to the usher of the sky. One day Deneb did not show. I decided to play courier. When I made it across the sky, I realized I could never look away. He was enchanting. I returned to him over and over. Wrapping us in blankets of burning, aqueous light. And my hunger for him was insatiable. My mouth ached for him when I was away. And so I returned. Again and again. Day in and day out. Knitting beams of liquid fire to cover us in. Until on the seventh day of the seventh month my father, hearing rumor of my escapades, came to raise the river in the sky. And as the river turned vast and full as ocean he realized that I was tangled with Altair on the other side. He realized too late. And he could not control the tide. And I saw his face from across a vehement and boiling torrent.
My father, suddenly king of floods, pulsing with rage, unleashed a tidal wave of fury. Altair struggled in the undertow. And as his chin tipped back, mouth sucking in deep gulps of space, I did the only thing I knew to do. I scooped the ocean up and ran. But not even I could contain it. I was running with water. Dashing as far from Altair as I could. Carrying the ocean. Running with water. My arms filled to the brim, until they spilled over. Flooding the sky. Turning to sparkling, bursting fire. Sparks dancing across my skin, burning freckles across every inch until I turned to fire myself. And all the time the water spilling over. Dripping across the sky. Tiny droplets of light scattered about a boundless desert. Water turned to river of fire. No longer a cataclysmic current burying my love. Yet still a fierce and infinite blockade. A dusting of smoldering light. Separating Vega and Altair.