"Hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching you..."

Will I ever have a hand to hold, or lips to nip, or a mind to share, or someone to see what's behind these glassy orbs? I don't think so. I think so negatively at times. Perhaps my brain was replaced with a minus sign when I was too busy looking down to see up.

Today was absolutely horrid. I have an internship at UCSC which is wonderfully marvelous, and I get to see the ocean everyday. I ride a bus over from my home to there and it takes a total of one and half to two hours . I have to wake up at six to start my journey at seven but today I blundered and slept till 7. I had to rush out the door to my dad waiting impatiently in the car and speed off. I'll get superficial for a second, but I looked beyond unkempt because I'd been out yesterday from 7 am to 10:30 pm, because I babysitted that night. Of course today I saw a couple really cute guys (such a rarity on my rides). It continues on worse but I won't bore you. Aye, how my life is, I swear there isn't a dull moment.

But I am writing! Yesiree. My brain is spewing muddlemush and some of it is cohesive:

Time was long and broad and stretchable when I was little. I would suck on her fingers and tangle myself in her hair. Pull on the jeweled moments that clung to her neck and ears, hold them between my clumsy fingers. Each containing a different scene: of the finicky ocean taking only the plucked ripe cherries from a picnic display, of plasticy green grass whose color melted off to patters on sun ripened skin, of airplanes cutting though a reality so strong they shattered the atmosphere, of delicate piano fingers caressing a swaddle of cries.

But then there came a time when she took away her jewels, let them crack against the pavement of my room, and stared immovable as I cried. So I took her and curled her, melded her, into a ball, and threw her out the room where she bounced off to eternity.

I haven’t seen her since.

NOTE: My work is under a CreativeCommons copywrite. If you would like to display it somewhere ask my first and please (PLEASE!) do not steal. This is my brain, not yours. I am sure your brain contains lovely crevices of imagination and I'd be glad to help you find them, but taking my imagination as your own is surely not the way to solve this problem.

Summer is passing faster than a rabbit gives birth (sorry for the comparison, but it is creative don't you think?). I have yet to be burned, I have yet to dip into my pool, I have yet to die (naturally that will occur in eons)

To those who read, I'd love for you to comment either on my writing or on my life or on this blog post as a whole.

Saranghae and Au revoir,

I am learning Korean and French.

Analisa Montelbello