collapsing
why do we call it falling in love?
falling implies collapsing
and collapsing implies breaking.
it's like saying people fall before they fall in love.
the word "falling" attaches weakness to the word love.
but then again it could be good.
one thing about love for certain is it makes people weak. and there's the irony
people see love as something grand. something we need. and we all forget that's to be in love, we have to collapse, not just into it, but sometimes out of it.
falling out of something means landing someplace else, and sooner than later we find ourselves crash-landing into uncertainty.
Please
Please don't be that guy.
Please don't be the one who causes the party to end early.
Because he got so drunk, he puked on the host.
Then immediately tried to kiss the host's wife.
After he couldn't stop grabbing cups of punch.
Please don't be the one, who comes home from work at the bar,
Stomping and scaring your young daughter.
Uncaringly, mistaking her room for the nearby bathroom,
And peeing on her white toy bin after too much white wine.
Please don't be the one, that on a supposed fun night.
Spent too much time at the arcade's bar,
And when your wife is beeped in to go to the hospital as the head doctor,
Get pulled over with your daughter in the backseat.
Please don't be the one, who on new year's eve,
mistook your daughter for your wife,
and made her drink champagne,
before she could even spell the word.
Please don't be the one, who argued with your wife,
And angrily break a lamp and your wife's nose,
With your daughter crying in the corner,
Not old enough to know how to dial 911.
Please don't be the one, whose bruised wife
has to leave before your daughter's pale
skin is black and blue with hit marks,
Left alone with no one else.
Please don't be the one, who couldn't stop
Who drank too much, who got too rough,
Who couldn't put their foot down.
Who got in fights for acting too tough.
Please don't be that guy.
Someone once asked me why I write
I write because I am fascinated by the English language. I love the way March 4th is the only date that is also a sentence. I am enthralled by how many strange and luminescent galaxies can exist inside of one skull, and how blessed we are that those authors choose to share those galaxies with us in the confines of a few hundred pages. I am comforted by the way a tree can look at a book and know that there is life after death. I think it’s funny that we create words that we are not allowed to use, and I reject those rules on principle. I love how sometimes the words we specifically don’t write can be just as poignant as the words we do.
I know that language is a flawed system and that there are more prestigious job opportunities for lawyers and doctors, but I am a writer because we need writers. We, as human beings, are just poems with feet. Each of us is a story that has never been told and it is our living-breathing right to tell our story – to be that poem.
I write because there is no word in the English language to describe how easy it is to fall in love with sadness, if only because it will never leave you. I write because there are an infinite more things you can do with words than anything else that exists. I write because I believe that the right sentence spoken or read at the right time can change lives. I write because I have to. I write because I can be stripped of my possessions, my hope, my name, my dignity, my courage – even my life, but no one can keep me from words.
We are a speck of dust on a freckle of the universe, living on borrowed time and chemical reactions - and I cannot afford to waste my life not writing.