(a series of micro vignettes)

Chella and I are reading our analysis assignments together because that’s how we link and build.
We read out loud too, because how else can you judge the flow?
When my phone, lying on the table, jiggled. The caller ID read, “Tommy’s girlfriend.”
Chella gave me a little look. “I never change anyone’s ID,” I confessed. “Neither do I.” Cellia agreed.
“She broke up with him years ago..”

I feel sorry for panhandlers, I don’t see them often but I saw one yesterday. Who carries cash any more (Noone)?
Along the same line, Chella and I are wired, it-girls - we’re noise cancelled. Were you talkin’ to us?
We’re hard to engage, not because we’ve got attitude - we just can’t hear you. It’s irritating when I have to tap-out of some stream to hear people.
Even if it’s the waiter from the bistro downstairs delivering their exemplary frozen-strawberry-smoothies and burgers.

Later, after the pool, we showered. As I was toweling my hair, I studied myself in the mirror.
“My skin is SO ******* up,” I moaned, “I need a ‘rescue spa’ ******.. Let’s go to New York (city)—I’m taking you there.”
“There’s a ‘Forever Young Spa’ on Beacon street.. about a mile from here,” Cellia offered.
“Ever been there?” I asked.
“No, but the ad says they have an AI-powered massage robot. I’m curious.”
“Ooo! Call ‘em up, see if it does happy-endings.” I laughed.
“We could get a home unit.” Cellia updogged.
“I think we’d need the industrial version,” I added, “that’s the sell.”
.
.
A little playlist for this:
Nothing Can Stop Us by Saint Etienne
Goodbye by The Sundays

Our cast:
Chella, A tall, lithe black girl, from Liberty City (Miami) Florida. She's a Harvard Master's candidate with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs’ from Yale. She had it rough growing up - she was buying skin-care at Trader Joes! I'm showing her some things.
Your author, a simple trust-fund baby from Athens, Georgia and a Harvard Master's candidate with a Bachelor of Science in Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry from Yale.

dear future me,

i don’t really know why I’m writing,
except maybe I hope you're still listening.
today she left.
and I don’t know if she’s ever coming back.
she smelled like smoke and sweet things
and something sharp I couldn’t name.

she said she’d be back soon.
grandma hugged me so tight,
I thought maybe she was saying goodbye for her.
but I smiled anyway.
because I still had that kind of hope.
the kind that doesn’t know better yet.

I feel something inside me trying to curl up and disappear.
but there’s another part of me
the part that wants to yell,
to make someone come back,
to ask, “was I not enough to stay for?”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
sometimes I laugh too hard just so I don’t cry.
sometimes I pretend I don’t care so no one asks.
but I do care.
I care a lot.

please don’t forget me.
don’t become so strong you stop feeling.
don’t cover me up with silence and call it healing.

whoever you are now,
i hope you still remember the sound of her leaving.
because it’s the only proof I have that I was here.

love,
me

For those who have stuck around
I should be grateful
Yet often I've been wounded
By those who are close and dear
Their intentions virtuous
And their results malicious
All comes back to
If familiarity mattered
Water wouldn't boil a fish

You have torn me up                                                               ­                  you  have torn me down                                                             ­              and  I have  had enough                                                           ­          of  this  merry-go-round                                       ­                      You  asked  for space                                                            ­               you  asked  for time                                                             ­                                  A  slap  in the face                                                             ­                                   you   used  it to  undermine                                                    ­                   But  patience  brings power                                                            ­             and  I 'm  coming into mine                                                             ­     Just  because  you yell louder                                                           ­                     doesn't  make you right

Ladies and Gentlemen can I have your attention                                                        ­                                                  I  am  about to ascend to the fifth dimension                                                        ­                                                Me  and  the world all interconnected                                                   ­                My  whole life being redirected                                                       ­     Moving  in between possibilities                                                    ­       living  in alternate realities                                                        ­           In  a  state of pure tranquility                                                      ­              with  twenty twenty visibility                                                       ­                  I  am going to control my destiny                                                          ­      Live my life with brevity

I am a big fan of strange                                                          ­                  I don't  want people to ever change                                                           ­      I  love  it when they are weird                                                            ­       they  won't tell you  what you want to hear                                                 Quirky is beautiful to me                                                               ­       it  tells  me that they are free                                                             ­     Loners  attract me                                                               ­                             like flowers and honeybees                                                        ­   Their  emotions are intriguing                                                       ­             I wonder what they are thinking                                                         ­              Their  poems speak of individuality ,fate                                             of destiny and hate                                                             ­                          Like  two peas in the pod,                                                                        they  are  just like me , a little odd