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lunaslattes · 6 months

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dolce far niente

i think i am quite tired of the life led by one, redundant routine.

maybe that is my fault, or! maybe i am living a brute philosophical principle,

as the man, just the man, and not the philosopher

who is so concerned for those of us, of myself, who put on a show and present for the "rat race" each day,

succumbing to the gravity of whatever "matrix" controls us

he was onto something, i guess, for

i too, am concerned, concerned by the same scene i watch daily

from behind my eyes.

it- the scene- usually begins with my cat laying, not on any part of the hundreds-dollars museum-esque collection of cat trees and beds, but amongst the scrapyard of cardboards, which was once to be a delivery box containing her kibble.

i'm placing the same cat food in the same cat dish at six and six o'clock again

at her paws, waiting in the same spot she knows will be blessed with her meal

at the same time every day; that is redundancy, a schedule as beaten as the "dead horse", i suppose.

even animals understand... but do they know redundancy the way i must?

she doesn't know a thing of what lies beyond the single entrance to my flat,

nor the barred balcony (which is really, a glorified window)-

she does not even know why a fourth-floor apartment window should be barred,

nor, does she ever have to.

she doesn't know

the shoves and the pushes and the noise of

the businessmen and the students and the beggars

which await me, the man.

she is onto something, i guess, for

i too, am appreciative of a blissful ignorance,

savoring it each chance i get.

she reminds me of it, the substance of nothingness,

as she stretches and wobbles back to the scrapyard once finished with her meal

she isn't off to work, or be productive in any capacity, not now

she doesn't even begin her biscuit-making she loves to do on her blankets yet;

she simply lays, and rests, although she is perfectly awake and able to begin viewing today's "scene".

so, i will skip the middles of my scene,

until six o'clock again, when i come home

to my cat, and give her dinner, and maybe then,

i will go and rest, and do just nothing.

#lunaslattes #my writing #writing #academia #author #student

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lunaslattes · 6 months

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what you see

there is a phrase that comes from the mouths of

those folk whose houses are homes for their neighborhood

(which is probably full of their own relatives)

that you hear during greetings on a doorstep,

around a thanksgiving dinner table,

in small talk that grips a conversation as the flesh on their hand grips yours in a handshake

as one opens their autobiographical introduction,

the expression comes out; it is almost traditional:

"what you see is what you get"

thinking on this, each reunion, i've realized:

i am definitely not only what you see

that is not to say that i evade each assumption

both first and second glance can make.

i do listen to alternative rock, as my band t-shirts would suggest

i do spend nights sleepless, as my dark undereyes would suggest

but that is not all that i am.

you will not see the fifteen years i spent in the church,

you will not see the seven times i have moved homes across the country,

you will not even see the binders of drawings, poetry, photography in the drawer under my bed (unmade, and cluttered with a collection of stuffed animals you probably wouldn't see either)

to what value, is what you see?

#creative writing #my writing #writing #academia #author #lunaslattes

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lunaslattes · 1 year

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beauty,curiousity

each chip in my breakfast bowl bears beauty in its origin, each dandelion invading our garden bears the beautiful ability and mission of procreation, each flickering pixel on this computer screen i write with is mesmerizing, entrancing. if i can find so much beauty, overwhelming beauty, in the things i see every day, what other wonders may enchant me with their unfamiliar glimmers?

i learned young to appreciate what the world offers us, and to do so immediately upon exposure. in the passing of her late grandmother, (a beautiful singer and songwriter, who inspires my writing to this day) seven year-old [redacted] learned, in grievance, the truest, rawest definition of beauty in the world. my grandmother’s crow’s feet, smile lines, aged voice… they are the things that taught my young self what beauty is, as what i knew in my late grandmother. i greet it every day without searching, for, one day those lines and cracks will stop spreading and end their trek.

this worldview of mine continued developing through tests and trials. to cite a more recent event in my life, i’ll reference my time in a workspace. for context, i worked for an ice cream shop last summer. i was interviewed, oriented, and trained in just a week… the week of my junior finals, and, week of recovery from ap exams. not only was i readying to conquer my very first workspace, recovering from the ap exams, preparing for my last finals before college applications would send, but also going through a challenge socially which i had never learned to deal with. nobody can prepare you for the bundle which comes with your first love.

it’s funny: even at weddings, love is an essence which nobody can truly capture with words. no matter how moving, interesting, or genuine wedding vows are, the tears shed at first listening don’t encapsulate love, to give to another. the beauty love is entitled to is what you hear about it, until a poor reality greets you. at this time, i was being greeted by it, and stronger, faster, than i could have been prepared for. i am very proud to have done my best, for through the buildup, impact, and rubble, i brought my highest accomplishments home: my 5 on the ap language exam, my gpa, my first job… i could have gone without the whole “first love” thing until i was clear out of college, but i am grateful to have been served the trial and test how strong i can hold out to the finish line. the practice given to solve and flow through every problem all at once- mine, my friends, my partner- has prepared and excited me to step onto that airplane and absorb all of the beauty that lies beyond in.

learning and appreciating the beauty in the world were the first developments, but the final is the mother spark of this very essay. “the important thing is not to stop questioning. curiosity has its own reason for existing. one cannot help but be in awe when one contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. it is enough if one tries to comprehend only a little of this mystery every day.” albert einstein said it himself: it is my curiosity, blossomed from research and appreciation, that has me sat at this desk today, typing, thinking, hypothesizing.

#lunaslattes #writing #my writing #author #student

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