corners of notebooks. the back of receipts. napkins. scratching out the story of my life on these scraps that i’ll stuff into my purse and then just toss anyway. i never save them. where would i put them if i did? i’m not one of those girls who has a secret drawer somewhere, filled with perfectly folded secrets. i keep it all *up here* - after all, that’s the safest place for it to be. no one will ever know. i only trust myself with my thoughts.

perhaps not even.

someday i will be the hero of my own epic

I always have trouble with those “get to know you exercises” - Describe yourself in three words

If there’s a word for being formal, swept up in the propriety and the prudence, impressed by the titles before and after names, happiest when everything is a beautifully choreographed waltz, that’s one.

If there’s a word for a lover of veils, physical and mental, emotional and interpersonal, a muhajjibah in the broadest sense of the word, that’s two.

If there’s a word for a fighter, who can’t stand by and be quiet when I have an opinion to give, when there is work to be done, that’s three.

shapeshifter. that’s what i’d be if i were a mythical creature. the one who fills in the blank. the one who will be the pessimist at the optimists’ club. the one who will be the dreamer while the world is living reality. the one who will rise to a fall and fall to a rise. the one who will be silent to a speech and speak to a silence. the one who never has a body or mind or spirit because she’s too busy. too busy.

too busy

filling

blanks

what’s with all these speeches in my head? as if i’m always speaking to an audience. ha…i catch myself thinking something and wondering how much applause that would get if anyone were listening.

if anyone were listening.

that would be a great one-liner, i think. add to it a strategic bang on the podium. eye contact…look, look, look, look, settle. deliver.

boom.

standing ovation.

i live and die in this moment.