i found myself purposed to be an instrument of some constituent pie charted and marketed and television saturated and worked, yes, worked, worked to the marrow to grow some boundless fruitless profit margin i would never see nor feel nor benefit from :: i found myself channeled to evolve our nation, grow her right off the fucking map, people, not unlike the old English empire. less colonialism. more land. smaller navy.
i found myself
and decided not
|drama by katya
you are the new kid
you work from within the system
you paint the walls in there some deeper colors
when the system changes you feel
a great sense of pride and ownership
you are local now
a new kid appears
they want to paint the walls
you resist. you worked so hard to paint them
they don’t know what it was like before
they don’t care
you care about different things
change is hard
the universe gave me life and no promises. the universe put me in a cell in a womb and i grew into a tiny body. hormones and organs and limbs developed. a dangerous mind came of a brain. i got too big for my apartment and, though i would have stayed, the landlady evicted me. her name was mom. i went out kicking and screaming, attached like an astronaut by a cord, into space. they cut the cord and let me float. they slapped me and put me in a basket. i escaped by sleeping. my dreaming body had yet to emerge so i slept peacefully until waking. mom took me home with some guy they called dad. there was even a little guy who was called big brother. i was scared and i waited a long time before opening my eyes. when i did i saw a world and mom was in it, so that made me happy. i tried to bargain with her but we did not speak the same language. so i had to wait. the applesauce tasted pretty good but the puree vegetables were god awful. the only way i survived was looking deep into moms eyes when i had to be awake. the world was cold and i was in it, against my will.
i realize the mind likes to drift and gravitates in the extremities of thought. my mind likes to dodge the reality the rest of me is forced to face. my mind lives in fantasy and travels to places which do not exist. think up a dream or a nightmare. only when i wake up am i convinced i am not there! such is the power of the mind! sometimes we find ourselves in pain so deep, we are sure there is no way out of it. if only we could examine our thought process when we are in anguish, to see how our mind has trapped us in a nightmare with no apparent way out! then we can disbelieve the thoughts. distrust the mind. confound our own certainty. maybe april was a rotten month for you and you didn’t catch any breaks. maybe you wanna give up. i invite you to turn your thought process around, and expect a miracle in may!
i lived here and made it my home. i accomplished many things, mostly writing, inside these walls. i recovered from a long illness of self-centered fear and faithless preoccupations. i am grateful to have made it out of the woods. i cared for my little tigers and gave them some freedom in a backyard. i formed community and a healthy relationship with my world. i prayed to god. i developed a routine which fostered creativity. i played guitar and shared my work online with friends around the world. i lived here. it all happened right here, in five years. i must leave now, and take what little i have with me. i am a borrower and can only pay my debt back, leaving as i came. i wish i could stay but i keep no regrets. life moves along like a river, and my spirit now touches into new territory.
I was alone in a dark house in the woods late at night, when all the doors and windows started rattling. I thought maybe it was the winds. I turned on a spotlight, some relic of old Hollywood, and opened the front door to see. The air was calm and still. I saw a small figure in the woods, dressed in red. She was picking her way through the brush, approaching the house. I was frightened of her, for she had power. She called out to me: who are you? Katya, I said, calling out into the night. I am Katya. When I said my name aloud, all my fear dispersed. I was given many times my strength… what a nightmare!
getting up at four in the morning to write, with a head full of dreams, is like traveling to the eighth wonder of the world, finding it closed, then climbing over the fence to get in.