Monthly Archives: February 2017

Sparrow Confesses… in a list she wrote on a note pad she was given for Christmas

Today I failed at:

Smiling. Particularly smiling at strangers and brightening their day – I can’t seem to get it right and they stared at me like I’m crazy.

My diet. The food I chose was wrong. Even the coffee I ordered.

My clothes. I can’t seem to get the shoe/sock combination right.

Eating.  I must practice chewing without gurning  in front of a mirror.

My name. I can’t live up to my name. People seem to expect so much of me because of it. I can’t even say it out loud. I had to whisper it to the barista at Starbucks.

Not being jealous. I am jealous of everyone who is more successful. Which is everyone. I am failure and because of that I am jealous and I failed to control my jealousy.

Social media. No one liked my posts. Not a single like for all 44 posts. In the whole day.

Waiting. I failed at waiting for something to happen. I’m impatient for my real life to begin. 

Being alone. I failed at being happy alone.

Tomorrow I will be better. I just have to try not to let it upset me.

Anthony Confesses…

I dreamt that a polar bear was fast asleep in my room. Like a dog, curled up in the corner on a blanket, except it was huge and dangerous. It was snoring.

I asked my wife to get rid of it and she said, no.

And I said, I’m not sleeping in there, it’s a killer.

And she said, exactly, do you really want to wake a sleeping polar bear and kick it out of the house.

No, I said and got into bed.

I’m still trying to figure out what the dream meant as I’m not married and have never had a dog or met a polar bear.

Julie confesses…(secretly, to herself)

I want to pretend I know something useful or funny or quirky. I want to take part, or you know maybe, just be seen. I guess I want attention. I am seeking attention, isn’t that what people say? But at the same time I want to disappear. I always talk too much and I hear my voice and I shout to myself, SHUT UP, SHUT UP. But only inside myself. You know? It makes me sad that I’m not close to my family, but deep down I guess that’s my fault, even if I don’t like to admit it. Perhaps it suits me to be an almost orphan. Maybe I prefer to be lonely even if I don’t know it yet. Maybe I know that I’m too dangerous to be close to other people. But that’s OK.