Through life, I’ve walked from place to place, moving at various paces, entertaining different faces, even keeping company with those who’d put shame to others. In time, I’ve been a pseudo-father, mother, fighter, and a lover … trustworthy like no other, and the biggest nightmare ever experienced. In the duration of these identities, I’ve appreciated fallacies dissolved, the company that walked with me, even if only briefly, and those who shared their life with me, completely.

And I’ve left my tracks in these places.

If you were to trace my steps, in each space you’d encounter a person that was instructed to tell a specific story of experience. Forever connected. I did this because, I lived each day with impermanence. A habit, embedded into my skin … by a father that reminded me he might decide to kill me today. I would’ve cowarded in a corner; unable to live, but instead, fear manifested inversely. I no longer cared enough to restrain.

Rebellious was my nature, but reckless became my existence.

As such, I didn’t know if this location would be the one where I’d permanently lay. But I made my bed, asking them; should I not wake; if anyone came looking for me, tell them what happened, and state that I left with a smile on my face. Forever smiling at the beauty of life; the intricacy of movement. However, my current mobility leaves me a bit limited / restricted, due to inaccessibility; an inability to fully do things remotely.

And so, I’ve used my domain.

Creating a central location to the things which became, fragmented. One that I could post things more frequently, while on the move. I will still use this place to communicate sporadically individually (more frequently will be twitter and facebook, just search for my first name), but as a writer I have completely and permanently migrated. If you’d like, you can find me there … and if not, I bid you adieu. Thank you, for your time. Thank you, for deeming me worthy of a part of your life. Sincerely.

- Prasand J.

(this entry was written for and posted on myspace)

Three boys are home sitting idly, when one suggests that they do something. They exchange ideas as to what should be done, and although they partly like the ideas … they don’t exactly agree. So one boy suggests something neutral. “Let’s go camping”, he says. The other two find this interesting, and one asks why. So he says, “you want to relax, and you want hazard, while I want to play. If we go camping there’s all of that and more.” The other two boys emphatically agree, and so they go off on their journey.

–

As they arrive to their site, they see that there’s a river of life where many are congregating. So they decide to join everyone at that scene. Upon reaching the shore … they see others purchasing inner tubes, so that they can float along the river. They quickly grab tubes, and attempt to step into the flow. However, when they try to mount their tubes the three realize that they are too heavy to float.

They sink, and eventually discard their rudimentary rafts.

One boy is fast enough that he can skate on top of the water. However, he doesn’t feel like bothering … because he came to relax. So he steps out of the water, and sits along the bank. The other two stand there, and one says, “I’ll walk.” The other asks why, and he says, “because I want to see it.” The other says, “but you already know what’s there.” So he says, “but I want to experience it.” “But you’ll get hurt in the process.” “I know.” “Why not just stay here, and play?” “Because my movements are cumbersome, and my hands are hard … I’ll hurt the other children.” “But that walk is long, and tiresome.” “Then stay here, I’ll be back. The river is circular and splits into three paths. I’ll take the shorter route, and will tell you what I learned when I return.”

Reluctantly, one boy steps out of the water … and the other begins to walk, moving faster than the flow, but not fast enough to skate … and so … he trudges along. The other sees another group of three children, and goes over to talk to them. Occasionally he looks back, and sees his friend who is walking away. This bothers him, because he wanted him to stay. However, the other kids pull on his arms and he focuses on the moment. They laugh, and play as the boy who’s relaxing, watches.

In the midst of playing, the boy falls and scrapes his knee. He begins to cry because it’s the first time he broke skin. The other children are laughing, because they’ve fallen many times, and now they have someone to make themselves feel better about those memories. Except for the little girl that’s with them. She bends down, and wipes off his knee with her white dress. He stops crying, amazed by this gesture, captivated by her presence. The other kids call him names, but he no longer hears them. He stands up, as she holds his hand. The other boys become jealous of the attention he’s getting, and so they try to push him.

However, he’s much heavier than them and they just fall in their attempts to move him. The little girl wants to ride the river, and the little boy wants to join her. He runs and grabs them new inner tubes, trying to get himself a bigger one. He steps into the river, lays her inner tube down, and helps her mount it. He tries to climb on top of his … but he just sinks again. He throws away the inner tube, but determined … he decides to walk along-side.

But his strides are short, and she is light.

Realizing this, he lets go of her hand and smiles … and as she struggles to hold on, she spins in his direction, crying as she floats away facing him. They keep eye contact for as long as he can see. No longer by her side, he steps out of the river, and the other two boys rush and try to catch up. Eventually they do, trying to impress her by bragging and showing her their muscles … but she knows that they are light and as such, unstable. So she partly entertains, but longs for the little boy that waits along the bank.

Seeing that she’s not truly paying them mind, the boys stop struggling to keep up with her … and because she’s lighter than them, she floats away. A few hours later, she catches up to the boy that’s walking in the river. He sees her with tears in her eyes, and he turns her inner tube so that she faces forward in the river. He points to the bird that’s perched in a tree slightly in front of them, and tells her it’s story that he learned previously. She’s entertained, but not happy, since all he can do is show her, but not truly experience it with her … because his hands are hard, and movements are cumbersome.

He shifts his stride, and is able to keep up with her … but she wants to linger for awhile, and so he steadies her pace. Eventually he hears the boys behind him, and they curse in vain at the sight of them together. They are insignificant to him, because they are behind. So he does not even acknowledge their existence, until he sees her cry … and begins to hear the names that they are calling her. The boy stops, turns around and waits. She is steady, still as he … and as the other boys approach, he punches them in the face, and throws their inner tubs onto the bank. — The boy and girl turn away and he walks with her, keeping stride until he gets tired. Over-worked and weary, eventually they too part ways … and as she leaves, he doesn’t know if she’s crying or happy, because all he can see is her back … but he wonders, and hopes.

–

Along the bank the two boys sit, and the one who’s relaxing asks him, “what are you doing?” He says, “I’m taking a break.” “No, I mean why do you play?” “Because it’s fun.” “Okay”, and as he says that another group of children approach. Two little girls join them, and they talk while the other two girls stand off together. One little girl says, “I can’t stand her.” And so the little boy who plays says, “I can see why. Look at her, she thinks she’s too good to partake, but her clothes so ragged and hair unkempt. She has nothing on you.” The little girl smiles, but he really likes her eyes … so blue. — The other boy and girl are having their own conversation. She is entertained, but doesn’t appreciate his presence. Nonetheless, he partakes despite this knowledge.

The boy in the distance, quickly approaches two children … one who’s bullying the next. He says to the boy who’s being bullied, “if you aren’t willing to fight, then you do not deserve your life.” He asks the one who’s bullying, “why are you doing that?” He says, “because he’s weak and it’s funny.” “It’s all a matter of perception, and preference … but realize that by time you end this journey, I will have lapped you thrice.” — The other boy hates this idea. He thinks the other boy perceives himself to be so great, even though he knows that the one who relaxes would’ve lapped him twice, and the other boys six times. However, he doesn’t care about the boy’s judgement, and so he persists, “and know that there’s another boy that you cannot see, who’s already at the place where we are going. He plays, while you stress another’s existence.” He walks away, as the other boy curses him … but the one who curses stops bullying the other.

The subject of ridicule, he approaches a little girl, as he sees her fall off her tube. Gasping for air, she tries to climb back on, but the tube just flips. She tries to swim but the current is too strong and drags her in. He runs and picks her up, placing her upon his left shoulder. He steadies the tube, but notices it’s not firm. So he tells her, “your tube may have a leak, and as such you’ll continually fall over unless you replenish it.” He inflates her tube until it’s firm enough, but not so much that it capsizes easily … making sure it can still conform to her body. He rips off his sleeve and ties it around the area which he perceives to have the leak. He places her on it, and leaves. She does not appreciate this, and resents him for helping her. Then in hindsight he turns around and says, “there’s a boy on the bank, when you get to where you’re going, talk to him. You will probably like him more than me. Just know, his selfishness may clash with your own. If you know that, you’ll be free to enjoy the benefit of playing with him.”

Back at the bank, the children laugh and the two girls who stand off, scoff in resentment. Other little boys approach them, but they do not want this. They want the attention from the ones that their companions are getting. So one of the little boys who approached them loudly says, “forget them, they are nothing!” The one who relaxes, just listens. The other, is amused by them so he asks, “why are we nothing?” The boy retorts with his rationale, and the boy who plays makes a statement, and asks another question. The boy retorts again, building anger in the process … and so the boy who plays, laughs. Furious, the other boy mouths off even further, and he who laughs just makes another statement.

He storms off with his friend, and goes into the river.

All of the girls are impressed by this. They loved the way he handled it, and how he kept his cool. The two who were distant, decide to suck up their pride and come over. He allows it, even though he knows that their newfound smiles were once filled with spite and still might be. As they laugh, maybe those things become genuine … but eventually they too leave, and as they do with the boys waving, the one who relaxes asks, “why did you do that?” “What?” “When she said she can’t stand the other girl, why did you respond that way?” He says, “to relate, because it’s what I wanted.” He says, “okay.”

–

The boy in the river approaches another girl, to his distant “right”. He looks for a sec, and sees that she’s sitting with a butterfly perched on her finger. He finds that, and her to be amazing. So he cuts across the river, and upon meeting her she says, “they always seem to come around me, and I wonder why.” He says, “maybe because they like your presence. Insects, animals and people can sense such things.” She smiles, and asks him, “why are you walking?” “Because I’m too heavy to float.” “Then, why are you walking so fast?” “Because there are others waiting.” She says, “then keep your pace” and as such, she jumps into the river, and paddles while holding onto the tube. He says, “I can carry you if you get tired.” She says, “I may take you up on that.” “Cool.”

The boys at the bank, the one who relaxes … sees a girl who piques his fancy. She’s with another girl, and so the boy who plays approaches them, but at first they do not pay him much mind. So he pulls out a bouquet of roses from nothing. Amazed, one asks him, “how did you do that?” He says, “it’s magic, and a magician doesn’t divuldge his secrets.” However, she persists and then the other interrupts asking, “who is that?” “That’s my brother.” “Why is he so still?” “He prefers to relax.” “I think I’ll join him.” “Cool, I’m sure he’d like that.” And so, the girl who caught his fancy approaches him. They sit in silence for awhile, and then he not knowing what was discussed, asks, “Why did you come over?”

“To give them space, and because I wanted company. My friend wanted to frolick, but I don’t like getting sweaty. The two of them can play together, he seems to have tickled her fancy.” While others would interpret that as snobish, he’s impressed by this, because despite her preference she still accompanied her friend. He smiles, and she asks why. “Because I like your style.” Then she says, “you don’t talk much.” “I can, depending on the topic at hand, but mostly think not much needs to be said.” She says, “that’s good to know” … and they sit, watching the sun set in the distance.

The one who’s walking now has the little girl on both shoulders. She’s radiant and illuminates the dark path. They approach the fork in the river. She says she wants to go to the right, and he says, “I’m going to the left. The path is shorter, and I said I’d take it.” She says, “but there’s no light.” “I’m okay with walking the dark path, blindly.” “But isn’t that one more dangerous?” “It is.” “Aren’t you scared?” “Not really, and even though I am slightly it won’t stop me.” “…” “I’m kinda glad that you desire to stay on the right path. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt traversing mine.” “What if you don’t survive?” “Then tell the boy who plays by the riverside, I tried.” — She says, “I’ll miss you.” He kisses her on the cheek, and says, “you won’t … after awhile, but I’ll remember you for the rest of my time.” “Look for me.” “Okay.” He then pushes her tube in the right direction, as he stands there watching her light fade … she looks over her left shoulder, til she can no longer see him.

The one who relaxes says, “we’re going to get some rest.” The one who plays, “but he said he’ll be back.” “He will, but he’s not that fast. He’ll be here tomorrow.” And so, he goes to the tent with the one who’s company he enjoyed. The other girl asks, “who are you speaking of?” “My brother.” “Where is he?” “He’s walking in the river.” “Which path did he take?” “The shortest one.” “Isn’t that dangerous?” “Yes, but he’ll survive. Anyway, let’s not worry about that.” They continue to play until they too decide to sleep.

–

The next morning, the boy who plays exits their tents first. He’s ravenous, and sees a bear in the distance … fishing. He decides he doesn’t want to spend time trying to catch such slippery fish, and wrestles the bear for it’s winnings. — Wet, with a fish in his mouth, and two in his hands … he approaches the bank, while the others wait, and the one who relaxes laughs at the sight of him. He says, “which one’s ours?” “Your shit is still swimming.” He laughs and says, “Okay.” He then dashes, grabs some fish, and is already next to him by time the one who plays … sits. His companion asks, “why didn’t you just give them one?” “Because he’s fast enough to get some for them without having to wrestle a bear.” She says, “I see.”

They prepare and eat their breakfast together, and as they allow it to digest another group approaches them. One of them says, “we saw what you guys did, and thought that was amazing.” The one who plays, thinks, “you would.” The other, laying on the table … turns over and ignores them, because he’s content with his companion, and embraces her. The fan continues, “how did you do that?” “You saw with your own eyes. I wrestled, he ran.” “But how did you get so strong, and him so fast?” “We were born that way.” “Can I be as strong as you, and as fast as him?” “Perhaps.” “How can I?” The boy who plays, turns away and looks at his companion saying, “this is getting tedious.”

Then he hears the fan yell, and his voice becomes distant. The one who relaxes, doesn’t turn in the direction of the voice just raises his arm into the air and says, “told you he’d be back.” The one who plays, says, “took you long enough.” “My bad, I broke my ankle on the rapids.” He pauses and continues, “why do you have all of these people around?” “I don’t, they came on their own accord. What did you do with the other guy?” “I pushed him somewhere over there”, he nonchalantly points into the distance. He turns to the others, and they jump in fear as he says, “don’t harass them. I’ll answer your questions after I get some rest.”

He says hi to the girls, and then retires to the tent. A few hours later he emerges, and says to the crowd, “you can ask your questions now.” Eagerly they all try to speak at once, and he says, “three people at a time.” He answers all of their questions in depth, until they have nothing left, and they leave. “Did you see a little girl that glows?” “No.” “Oh, I guess she’s still on her journey.” “What happened?” He tells the story, painting the picture of the scene, taking the boy who plays on a mental journey. Then the one who plays in exchange, tells him his story then asks, “what are you going to do now?” “I’m going back.” “Why?” “Because I missed things along the way, as I became preoccupied with others.” “You’re gonna just be distracted again, you should stay.” “Yes, but it won’t be at the same points during the journey. Well, hopefully it’s not.” “And if it is?” “Then I’ll walk it again. Each time, becoming stronger, faster, and more efficient.” “Then after that?” “I’ll walk the right paths, being able to complete them just as quickly because of my increased speed.”

The one who relaxes asks, “why do you walk it?” “Because I want to.” “Why did you help the girl?” “Because I can. Just the same as you decided to keep the girl who didn’t appreciate, company … because you could.” “Okay.” — The five of them sit for a bit, until the girl who was light approaches. She sees the boy who plays with his new companion. She is saddened by this, and so the boy who walks interrupts her state. He asks, “did you have fun?” She says, “yes, I saw so many things, and looked ‘forward’ to seeing more.” “I’m glad.” “Thank you.” The six of them sit, talk, and laugh together. Until, the one who was light says that she has to go home now. They all say bye, and the one who walks sees her off. Before parting ways with her he says, “there will be many moments of pain, but it is important to not allow them to erase the moments of joy. Appreciate both, and everything will be okay. Enjoy the moment, and if you can’t … look forward.” He sees the blood on her dress, and he rips that portion off. She kisses him on the cheek before departing silently.

He approaches the others, and quietly slides the torn portion of dress into the boy who play’s back-right pocket. However, the boy who plays says, “I don’t want this, burn it.” So the boy who walks, takes it, folds it, places it into his own pocket, and says, “I’m off, again.” The girls who were there, want to go also. They became excited about the things they’d see, after hearing the story. So they all walk to the bank, the other two boys … reluctantly. Then as the three of them enter the river, the boy who plays says, “you know you’ll get hurt again.” “Yeah, probably will.” He walks off.

–

A few miles later, one of the girls looks back and asks, “Why aren’t you walking with us?” “Because I did not know if you wanted me to. The two of you set off the bank before me. We’ve been keeping the same pace, and so I have not caught up nor passed.” “Come closer.” “Okay”, and so he does. Then he continues, “I will stay with you until the fork in the river.” “Okay. Can you tell me about the things that I’m seeing?” “Yes, but know that some of it will be scary.” “That’s fine”, and inconsiderately of the other girl he begins to openly speak of the things they see. The one who’s listening attentively, eventually interrupts and asks, “why did try to give him the portion of girl’s dress?” “Because he might have wanted it.”

Back at the bank.

“I hate the way he handles things.” “Understandable.” “Why would he think I’d want the dress of a girl who left me?” “I don’t know.”

“What if he didn’t want it?” “Then he would’ve expressed that.” “But if he wanted it wouldn’t he have expressed that also?” “Possibly not, considering you were with him, and then also because of pride.”

“He wanted me to have it, and so he forced his desires upon me.” “Yes, he did.”

“So then you did it because it would make him happy?” “No, I understood that it might make him sad. I understood that if it remained on her dress then it in a way may have been a brand, one which he might take pride in. However, the tear would still remind her of the point which came before that. I did it simply because it was the only thing that something couldn’t have been done about.” “What do you mean?”

“He swears he knows everything …”

“If he wanted it, but for whatever reason stopped himself … and she left, then nothing could’ve been done about his desire not being met. If he didn’t want it, and I got it, then he would’ve rejected it as he did. Him not wanting it would’ve still been appeased.” “Oh, okay. Then why did you keep it yourself?” “To serve as a reminder of her, What was shared, and my mistake. I understand the mistakes I make, but I do not know where I will err before I do, and so it reminder.” “Why not just forget?” “Do you want to be forgotten? If so, then I shall forget you. However, it is my desire to remember everyone and thing that means something to me.”

“… and he’s so egotistical …”

“Does it hurt to make mistakes?” “At times it can, and if we punish ourselves for it, it can hurt even more.” “Do you punish yourself?” “In ways, yes.” “What do you mean?” “I choose to walk the dark path, knowing well that it may hurt. That can be seen as punishing myself. However, I do not do it because I specifically want the pain. I’m just willing to accept the consequences of my actions. As such, even when I make mistakes, I accept what happened, and do not punish myself for it. I remind myself merely because I do not want to hurt those I perceive to be undeserving.” “Who is deserving?” “Those who cause pain.”

“… and judgmental.”

“Don’t you cause pain?” “Yes, and I experience pain.” “Did the girl who accompanied you deserve the pain you caused her by leaving her?” “…” “Did your brother deserve the pain that you caused him by leaving him?” “Yes.” “Then who doesn’t deserve pain?” “… … … I don’t know. I’d guess anyone who doesn’t experience it.” “So then why don’t you want to cause it? Wouldn’t causing it mean that the person receiving it is deserving of it?” “Yes, and I guess I don’t want to accept the responsibility of hurting those I perceive to not deserve it.” “So you don’t allow yourself to live, you hold back because you’re afraid?” “Yes. Self-induced restraint is usually fear-based.” “Okay”, and as she says that they approach the fork in the river. The little boy for the first time doesn’t know which direction to go.

The little girl says, “Well, while you decide, we’re going this way. Maybe we’ll see each other another time.” “Maybe.” “Thank you for your stories, they were much appreciated.” “And thank you for your perspective, I learned much” … and they fade off onto the horizon as the boy stands there, undecided. A few minutes pass by, when he decides to run back to the bank. Along the way, he sees a group of people on the rapids, struggling to clear them. He remembers the resentment of the girl he helped, and instead asks them if they would like help. They say yes, and so he does … but still they do not appreciate. He continues running, experiencing a few more things along the way … and by time he gets back to the bank he’s out of breath.

The boy who plays says, “damn that was fast.” “I ran.” “Didn’t you miss things?” “No, I didn’t miss anything this time. Everything I missed, was during and before the first time. This time I saw what I was meant to.” “What happened to your teeth?” “Some kid knocked them out.” “Wtf, you lost a fight?” “No, I didn’t fight back.” “So you just let him hit you?” “The same as I just hit others before.” “For no reason?” “No, I hurt him before.” “You know, girls aren’t going to like you with missing teeth.” “Probably not, but that’s okay.” They can hear the splashing sound of footsteps behind them. They turn around, as the girl who glows rushes the boy who walks. “I missed you.” “And I, you. I’m sorry for leaving you.” “It’s okay. You’ve been through much, your smile’s not the same.” “Yeah, do you still want to be with me?” “Of course, silly … I meant that in a good way.” “Oh”, and she kisses him deeply, missing teeth and all.

Then the boy who plays asks, “Are you going to walk the other path now?” “No.” “Then what are you going to do?”

“Play.”

“Okay.”

- Prasand J.

After posting my last entry, a few people have asked me to tell them the truth about that poem. Since then I’ve been debating if I should do so publicly, but as an unlisted entry (for those who explicitly seek it). This is that entry. If you ended up here because you’re subscribed, or another reason but do not desire to know the truth about it, then don’t read this. I will decipher every cryptic part of that poem from the beginning. This will be long.

The poem is about the choices we make and the consequences of our actions.

Have you ever thought about the consequences of your actions, and examined what would happen? There is a concept of alternate realities which basically conveys, anything that can happen does and will happen. The poem examines the pros and cons of a single choice. The choice to reject (fight), or accept and it plays out what happens in either case. There are many symbolisms and metaphors contained in the poem. In the beginning the act of bowing, and curtsying is an act of momentary submission. It is an act of modesty. So while one reality starts off with submission, the other reality starts off with the exact opposite. Simply put, the couple that’s dancing accept each other … the couple that is fighting, reject one another.

Although neither situation is a dream, there is a reality in which they are dreaming. We dream because we do not want to accept or are not satisfied with what exists. When we dream we distance ourselves from reality. That distancing is the birth of denial and delusion. Those denials and delusions lead to confusion. For a conflict to exist, both parties must be dreaming and are confused … regardless of what they delude. How much clarity can a person have when they are focusing on fantasy? As an parallel, on one hand we have someone who is pro-abortion and on the other we have someone who is against abortion. As long as both parties do not accept reality, they will conflict. However, the moment one person truly accepts the other’s position (accepts reality), there is no longer a conflict between them. That is the case even if the other person does not accept it, since who will they be fighting if the other person is not? They can only fight with themselves. As such, when we fight someone it’s because our dreams (desires) conflict with theirs, but we’re both dreaming.

So in the reality where the couple is fighting, they are dreaming … and where they are not fighting, either they are not dreaming or their desires do not conflict. He desires (dreams) to lead the dance, and she desires (dreams) for him to lead or simply lets him (accepts). They are working together, whereas in the other reality they are working apart (egotistical & insecure). The next metaphor in the poem is about the memories of yesterday descending. It refers to the picture which fell from the broken frame, and reflects that against their current decline of forgetting that they love each other. Since when we fight, we’re only loving ourselves. Since we’re only accepting ourselves. There is no connection in that moment, only loneliness / solitude / individuality (ego).

The next metaphor is … life anticipates their steps, if only they’d listen.

Things have a way of working out, if we allow it to. However, we’re often stubborn and controlling. Refusing to see or listen to anything other than ourselves. So because of our fear (insecurity) we choose to go against even nature itself. We perceive ourselves to be focused and with direction … but the truth is we’re just frantic and trying to stay afloat. So we arrogantly delude ourselves into believing we know what’s best. When we don’t have a clue, and are dreaming. It doesn’t matter what the situation is, or what we’re doing … so we can take our pick of the delusion or topic. We can focus on the past, or the future, whatever we need to avoid focusing on, accepting, and appreciating today. Then sometime while we’re dreaming, we’ll get a taste of reality … and it’ll shock us (scare us), and / or amaze us. Why is it that people are so attentive when an accident happens? Anyone who does it, it’s because they were dreaming prior to it happening. Reality doesn’t stand out or impact so much when you’re already facing and accepting it.

The previous paragraph matches the poem, and stops at “an audience held in suspence captivated by their movements” aka the audience captivated by reality. The inaudible words, is a reflection of her inability to listen to him. She doesn’t hear him anymore, just sees him. She’s shut him out, and then shuts down (when she crosses her arms). While in the other reality they are embracing one another. The statement that “they stand on their last” actually applies to both realities. It’s metaphoric for the pending end of one relationship, and the literal position of the couple as they were dancing (they pivotted, then shifted). Their travel to remote locations was metaphoric for “they became submersed in the presence of one another.” It is the act of getting lost in a moment, and truly appreciating reality. So ironically the metaphor is the opposite of what it depicts.

The tear which trickles down her face, was the mark of the point of no return. For when she covers it in shame, she is both afraid of being herself … and sharing herself. If a couple had trust prior to that, and it’s lost … few couples ever come back from that (it takes a very strong bond to be able to overcome that). The mirrors on the ceiling is literal. Then her doubts kick in, and he turns away from her or in other words … abandons her. Previously in the reality where the couple was dancing, they did not completely submit to each other. That lack of utter submission was because of fear. In the moment that the husband or boyfriend abandons her … if he wasn’t busy loving himself, he would’ve been supportive, and reassured her that things will be okay. He doesn’t have to say something like, “no it wasn’t a mistake.” Since that would be to merely reject her again (since he’s saying she’s incorrect). However, in the other reality … they were supportive, and reassuring.

“the same plase I’ll be for the rest of it.”

May appear to be a rejection to some people, but it’s not. She answered his question, and yet didn’t. It was her way of saying, “that’s not important … what matters is where I am, not where I was or where I’ll be.” She wasn’t rejecting him, saying it’s not important doesn’t mean he thought it was important. If she was rejecting him, she would not have completely submitted to him afterwards (by closing the space between them). She desired for him to exist in the moment, and her submission was his reassurance. So he responded by giving her what she desired (she was leading the dance at that moment and it was his turn to follow pleasantly). “At least we have today.” Then, “always.” The always can appear to some like she was saying, “we’ll always remember this moment.” However, she was saying “this moment will always last, because we will always be in the moment as long as we’re together.” It’s an act of commitment. So one relationship ends, and the other truly begins.

When I was writing the poem my mind was split between the two choices, and I actually wrote two separate poems simultaneously. However, I couldn’t literally write two poems simultaneously with one keyboard so I typed the next lines of the poem before I forgot the other lines of the other poem, and the lines ended up being intersected. I wanted the mood of one to contrast the other, so I purposely made the lines so that they pushed and pulled the reader through different states. Here are the two poems for the sake of clarity:

He bows to her, taking her fingertips gently in hand.
She steps his way, and curtsies … but the space between them remains, because to get any closer would be insane.
He leads, she follows pleasantly.
Their feet sweep the mahogany floor … ever so effortlessly.
They glide, and step … glide, and step.
The consequence of their meeting is an audience held in suspence captivated by their movements.
Holding each other they react like lovers from another life, maybe she was his wife.
They stand on their last.
As they shift, their environment ceases to exist and they travel to remote locations only privy to them.
A flowing white gown spins around, and the ceiling mirrors their wake.
He looks into her eyes and asks, “where have you been all my life?”
She smiles and says, “the same place I’ll be for the rest of it.”
Her chest against his in submission … he says, “At least we have today.”
Her, “Always.”

—

Without being understanding, they argue about the things they desire to change.
She becomes irate, says that he’s a waste.
A high-heeled shoe shatters their picture on the table.
Only the frame remains.
As their memories of yesterday descend … life anticipates their steps.
If only they’d listen.
By choice, and without direction they carve their fate.
The topic?
Take your pick: the house, the car, their jobs, wanting children, the costs … unable to let go of yesterday, afraid of tomorrow, so today is lost.
His lips move aggressively but inaudible words are replaced and heard by menacing hand gestures in her direction.
Arms folded, with attitude she stands in demand on her left leg.
They stand on their last.
A tear trickles down her face.
She covers it in shame.
“Was this a mistake?”, she contemplates.
His back is to her, she who was once his world.

She who was once his world, and he who was once her’s.

———

and here is the poem in the form that I actually wrote it in (before turning it into paragraph format):

He bows to her, taking her fingertips gently in hand.
Without being understanding, they argue about the things they desire to change.
She steps his way, and curtsies … but the space between them remains, because to get any closer would be insane.
She becomes irate, says that he’s a waste.
A high-heeled shoe shatters their picture on the table.
Only the frame remains.
He leads, she follows pleasantly.
Their feet sweep the mahogany floor … ever so effortlessly.
As their memories of yesterday descend … life anticipates their steps.
If only they’d listen.
They glide, and step … glide, and step.
By choice, and without direction they carve their fate.
The topic?
Take your pick: the house, the car, their jobs, wanting children, the costs … unable to let go of yesterday, afraid of tomorrow, so today is lost.
The consequence of their meeting is an audience held in suspence captivated by their movements.
His lips move aggressively but inaudible words are replaced and heard by menacing hand gestures in her direction.
Holding each other they react like lovers from another life, maybe she was his wife.
Arms folded, with attitude she stands in demand on her left leg.
They stand on their last.
As they shift, their environment ceases to exist and they travel to remote locations only privy to them.
A tear trickles down her face.
She covers it in shame.
A flowing white gown spins around, and the ceiling mirrors their wake.
“Was this a mistake?”, she contemplates.
He looks into her eyes and asks, “where have you been all my life?”
His back is to her, she who was once his world.
She smiles and says, “the same place I’ll be for the rest of it.”
Her chest against his in submission … he says, “At least we have today.”
Her, “Always.”

She who was once his world, and he who was once her’s.

———

Although I imagine that for some the breakdown will have killed the appeal of mystery, I hope that for others it brings greater appreciation to the levels of it.

- Prasand J.

[12:53:20 AM] Prasand J.: we’ll always have today
[12:53:32 AM] Prasand J.: meaning, this moment will exist from one day to the next
[12:53:41 AM] Prasand J.: not worrying about the past or the future
[12:53:46 AM] Prasand J.: for what matters is here
[12:53:50 AM] Prasand J.: and in the other poem
[12:53:54 AM] Prasand J.: the couple was afraid
[12:53:58 AM] Prasand J.: of the past and future
[12:54:01 AM] Prasand J.: missing today
[12:54:10 AM] Prasand J.: trying to control their fate
[12:54:14 AM] Prasand J.: and as such
[12:54:17 AM] Prasand J.: things fuck up
[12:54:23 AM] Prasand J.: because they’re dreaming
[12:54:27 AM] Prasand J.: about what will happen
[12:54:30 AM] Prasand J.: and not accepting
[12:54:33 AM] Prasand J.: what they have
[12:54:45 AM] Prasand J.: so it seems as though the dance is the dream
[12:54:47 AM] Prasand J.: but the truth is
[12:54:51 AM] Prasand J.: the fight is the dream
[12:54:55 AM] Prasand J.: and every conflict
[12:54:59 AM] Prasand J.: every couple ever has
[12:55:03 AM] Prasand J.: is because they are dreaming
[12:55:13 AM] Prasand J.: and their dreams conflict
[12:55:16 AM] Prasand J.: their desires

[12:56:08 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: Yes…the leason I seem to be having the most trouble with
[12:56:11 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: …dreaming
[12:56:11 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: ?
[12:56:16 AM] Prasand J.: yes
[12:56:21 AM] Prasand J.: but the thing about that poem is
[12:56:26 AM] Prasand J.: I wrote it in a way
[12:56:30 AM] Prasand J.: that it would be interpreted
[12:56:33 AM] Prasand J.: so many different ways
[12:56:38 AM] Prasand J.: because it was my way of saying
[12:56:40 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: yeah
[12:56:42 AM] Prasand J.: “it’s okay to dream”

[12:57:10 AM] Prasand J.: at the end of the comments
[12:57:15 AM] Prasand J.: I separated the two poems
[12:57:39 AM] Prasand J.: I put it in a poem format at first, then separated them
[12:57:45 AM] Prasand J.: so the stories stand out more clearly
[12:57:51 AM] Prasand J.: and people can see what’s happening in each situation
[12:57:55 AM] Prasand J.: without being confused

[12:58:22 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: What inspired you to write the poem?

[12:59:15 AM] Prasand J.: because of something I read, that made me accept the reality that we “need” our dreams
[12:59:53 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: ?
[01:00:01 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: So that means…its ok to expect and dream?

(we had two convos going on at once, but I omitted the other convo … but due to the two convos I neglected to answer that question)

[01:11:03 AM] Prasand J.: did I say this already?
[01:11:08 AM] Prasand J.: that the situation of the couple
[01:11:18 AM] Prasand J.: it’s the same couple
[01:11:22 AM] Prasand J.: but in two different situations
[01:11:29 AM] Prasand J.: it’s not the past and future or anything like that
[01:11:31 AM] Prasand J.: it’s
[01:11:35 AM] Prasand J.: you’re in a moment
[01:11:43 AM] Prasand J.: and you have the choice
[01:11:45 AM] Prasand J.: to fight it
[01:11:48 AM] Prasand J.: or allow it to be
[01:11:51 AM] Prasand J.: and whatever you choose
[01:11:59 AM] Prasand J.: there will be repercussions
[01:12:02 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: yes
[01:12:03 AM] Prasand J.: both good and bad
[01:12:35 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: How do you really live in the moment?
[01:12:41 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: Wait
[01:12:42 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: no
[01:12:42 AM] Prasand J.: in one world, they do not fight … and in another they fight
[01:12:46 AM] Prasand J.: umm
[01:12:51 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: I need to write the blog!
[01:12:56 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: then sleep!
[01:12:59 AM] Prasand J.: it’s simple
[01:13:05 AM] Prasand J.: stop worrying about tomorrow
[01:13:06 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: I have to do taxes tomorrow :(
[01:13:09 AM] Prasand J.: stop worrying period
[01:13:16 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: OH like that statement up therE?
[01:13:17 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: ahaha
[01:13:17 AM] Prasand J.: and you can exist in the moment
[01:13:23 AM] Prasand J.: yep
[01:13:27 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: Lol
[01:13:31 AM] Prasand J.: you’re so busy dreaming about tomorrow
[01:13:34 AM] Prasand J.: that it leaves you
[01:13:38 AM] Prasand J.: unable to exist in today
[01:13:47 AM] Prasand J.: and appreciate the moment
[01:14:04 AM] Prasand J.: but that’s most people
[01:14:09 AM] Prasand J.: which is why they are insecure
[01:14:18 AM] Prasand J.: since they do not truly know where they “stand”
[01:14:29 AM] Prasand J.: they don’t really look at where they are at
[01:14:32 AM] Prasand J.: and find security in that
[01:14:44 AM] Prasand J.: because they’re busy looking at other places
[01:14:48 AM] Prasand J.: like
[01:14:53 AM] Prasand J.: the couple which fought

[01:15:48 AM] Prasand J.: actually
[01:16:02 AM] Prasand J.: the poem was written because of what I read
[01:16:05 AM] Prasand J.: due to Humaira
[01:16:12 AM] Prasand J.: and also due to a conversation I was having with her
[01:16:22 AM] Prasand J.: which in that conversation I realized that I was rejecting Stephanie
[01:16:32 AM] Prasand J.: (she and I have not been on the best terms lately)
[01:16:40 AM] Prasand J.: and that I realized my idiocy
[01:16:52 AM] Prasand J.: that such actions are purely because of fear
[01:16:59 AM] Prasand J.: where we no longer listen to the person
[01:17:02 AM] Prasand J.: who is our lover
[01:17:07 AM] Prasand J.: and we end up denying them
[01:17:29 AM] Prasand J.: I realized that I was doing that in the conversation
[01:17:36 AM] Prasand J.: so I apologized to stephanie
[01:17:41 AM] Prasand J.: and accepted the way things are
[01:17:52 AM] Prasand J.: and “then” read what Humaira wanted me to read
[01:18:02 AM] Prasand J.: which furthered my perception about what I realized the previous day
[01:18:10 AM] Prasand J.: and the blog entry was the result.
[01:23:02 AM] Bianca Vellamorez: So are you guys better?

[01:24:14 AM] Prasand J.: I was about to say no
[01:24:23 AM] Prasand J.: but the truth is … though the distance between is the same
[01:24:30 AM] Prasand J.: yeah, we’re better
[01:24:37 AM] Prasand J.: because I’m no longer fighting her.
[01:25:08 AM] Prasand J.: and maybe it’s a case of “too little too late”
[01:25:10 AM] Prasand J.: but
[01:25:18 AM] Prasand J.: whatever happens, happens.