simple days

remember when life was easier?
shit. I’m sorry. maybe your life was
never easy at any point, but maybe you
remember days that weren’t full of worry.

days where you had no responsibilities
except breathing, eating, and sleeping.
sometimes, even the sleeping was optional
(at least until you eventually passed out).

I can say that I love my life.
that maybe I’m not happy with where it is,
but I am happy with where it’s going.
it’s just that sometimes

I miss those days that were simple.
wake up, exist, eat, play, dance, sing
close your eyes and go to sleep
because tomorrow’s coming with all the things

you’re looking forward to
and none of the things you’re not.


Photo by Ian Schneider on Unsplash


Words Unfiltered: The past is the past, isn’t it?

So I put on the Sir Sly station on Pandora. I was about to start writing a short story, but whatever song it was that came on first had me thinking about the past. You know, you never really think things are going to ever truly be over until they are over. All the good and the bad. I mean, thinking back on it, I’m not sure how much of things there was that I really enjoyed. It pales in comparison to the few good moments. Not that there was never any good, it’s just that the time where good was the overwhelming majority, it didn’t seem to last long.

Life used to be so simple when I was young. I’d go to school, come home, and play games. I didn’t know much of the world aside from the bit I learned in school, which wasn’t much, and the walls that surrounded me each and every day. To me, the world was simply the name of the place I lived. My address was important, but the world was where my address was located.

I had a fish once. Her name was Goldie. As you can probably guess, she was a goldfish. I also had a dog once. I’m not sure if she was a golden retriever or if she was a mixed breed. She probably was a mixed breed. Her name was Cocoa. My great aunt died one time while I was in the house where I had my dog before I moved and before I really understood what death was. I woke up to my cousin Shine crying and crying. Her and my father were in my great aunt’s room. She had just came back home from the hospital the night before. I remember my dad going out to help her up the stairs.* She died that next morning. I remember at the funeral my father couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t understand much, but I knew that he was sad. I went up to him and rubbed his back as he cried and told him that everything would be okay.

My goldfish Goldie was a birthday gift that I chose over a party that my mother had planned for me. I don’t know how long I had the fish, nor do I remember how old I was when I got it, but It was all my responsibility. You see, my father has schizophrenia. It doesn’t affect him because he takes his medication, but this was during a period of time where he stopped taking it for a little while. In his augmented reality, for whatever reason, he needed to flush my goldfish down the toilet. I was terribly sad. I was…devastated. I started crying and I just could not stop. I kept crying and crying and crying. This was sometime after my birthday.

I wasn’t sure where I was going with this, as I never do with my writing, but I understood the true sadness my dad felt for the first time. I’m not sure if I really understood death at this point, but I understood that what I had was gone. People had been gone before, and we had to get rid of our dog before we moved, but this is the first time I had witnessed something being taken from me right in front of me.

The world is, for lack of a better world, weird. It’s always been either really small, or seemingly massive, and it never ceases to be either or at random times. The internet opened up the world to me, but there are just times where I feel lonely. With something as powerful as the internet at my disposable, you’d think that I always feel connected to some place or that I’d never really feel alone, but…I don’t know. It’s just, looking back, I realize that certain things are over and that they are over for good. All that’s left are memories of them, and sometimes, we can never really understand why those things happened or if it even mattered at all in the end.

I guess, that was all I really wanted to say.

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.

*A note for myself that you all get to view, but I’m going to talk about how the world can feel like a cage and how it can feel huge at the same time.