my neglected fish tank

Sometimes we wake from a dream and realize we’ve been dreaming some part of that dream over and over again. This morning I woke from a dream with the knowledge that I had dreamed about the same fish tank many times in the past.

The fish tank, covered by some kind of sheet, had been neglected by me for such a long time that no fish could possibly be alive. So I left it alone and continued to ignore it.

Eventually I decided to remove the cover, though I really did not want to. But I did. To my surprise, most of the fish were alive, some were sick, and some were dead, including two fancy goldfish.

I decided to rededicate myself to the care of my fish. I started by removing the dead ones with a net.

What part of me have I given up on? What part must I uncover?


not the tiniest speck

I woke up this morning thinking about an alien concept: hate. Yesterday NPR talked about a group that hates females known as gamer girls. I watched an episode of Jon Stewart that discussed the wage gap for women.

What is the root for this misogyny?

We are born innocent and taught to hate, to fear, to assume our false mantle of superiority. By our parents, our peers, our friends and neighbors. And, finally, ourselves. We internalize what we learned, and become our own authority of intolerance.

And so it goes…. We hate and fear women, or immigrants, or homosexuals, Muslims, and seamlessly teach our children to do the same.

This is an alien world to me. I can’t pretend to understand it. There is no space—not the tiniest speck—in my heart—for hate.

not merely words

I’m not always the best at showing my emotions
Sometimes the only way to block out the negative ones
Is to shut them all down
But I want to show you I’m not incapable
Only it might take a little longer
The words might get caught
Sometimes not come at all
I want to tell you I love you
When I feel it
When it is real
Like an anxiety attack