Yes, you can complain about the bad things in your life, but at least remember to acknowledge and praise the good! This universe, with its earthquakes and cancer, also gave us pineapples & dandelions. Be as balanced as the universe.

 

Something happened at the park last night. Without any interpretation, here it is:

We were four people sitting on the grassy hill of Parc LaFontaine, talking about regular things, books, life, the absurdity of existence. The conversation was sweetened by the pineapple-basil-flavored ice cream that we picked up from a nearby shop.

Alongside us, on the hills, were groups of young people enjoying their Saturday night as well. The grassy whiff of marijuana filled the air. Not everyone was into ice cream.

Below us, closer to the lake’s edge, garbage dotted the grass surrounding the trashcans. The litter was scattered by people who had enough energy to walk to the trashcan but not enough dedication to put their waste inside it. In short, the condition of the lake’s edge was an embarrassment to civilization. But then,

Continue reading “last night at the park”

I have not forgotten much:

The tarmac was night.

And the streetlamp’s reflection,

A full moon in a puddle of dogpiss;

Sidewalks effervesced with ghosts

That blossomed out of the cracks

In my memory of the place.

I sat solid; not of cold,

But of fear that the slightest

Tremble might clear my visions

So that the street becomes

Street, and the ghosts become floating

Faces that resemble faces

Of ghosts I have hidden, and not so well,

Below the concrete of my fears.

The morning frost

Binds my eyelashes

And for a ghastly minute

I cannot open my eyes

To rid myself of the night.

The bittercold concrete

Defeats my temperature

In ravenous vengeance,

But I don’t remember much more.

 

Once in a while, you get invited to a party even though you’re not in the mood to go. But you end up going anyway, saying to yourself that you won’t do much, just mingle a little and “change scenery”.

You end up at the party, sitting alone, in the corner, watching the people dancing all around you. No one impresses you and you don’t feel like blending in.

But then this one particular song starts playing. You don’t know the song, but you just know you have to get up and dance to it. You don’t understand what it is about this tune that got you: Is it the beat, or the melody, or the rhythm, or the bass line, or the lyrics, or the singer’s voice?

The reason doesn’t matter. You just need to get up and dance. So you do.

You know that feeling?

That’s exactly what happens when you fall in love. Against your will.