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The "Wu Word" Blog

January 2016

When We Were Young

One of my friends of over 20 years will tell you that our childhood began with a roadside truck that served hot and fresh donuts so crunchy and pillowy sweet that the balls of dough melted in our mouths, only for us to close our eyes in sheer enjoyment. She will also tell you about the childhood memory of her birthday party at the bowling alley where I dropped a bowling ball on my foot and cried and screamed so hard and loud that my father was called to pick me up.  She will tell you about how we blew pink wads of bubblegum into massive bubbles bigger than our small faces when we were little girls. 
 
It is interesting and intriguing about memories and what we remember, particularly of our childhoods.  Sometimes, I feel like I am watching my memories as a movie in film strips and segments. 
 
One of my film strip movie segments starts with a bookstore.  “Borders” bookstore, to be specific.  I spent my high school days with my childhood friends roaming the endless aisles of convictions and ideations in written words etched on the scent of earthy papery pages.  We would almost always close our times together clustered at the small rounded tables over what we felt like were the adult drinks of lattes over hot chocolate while flipping through glossy magazine.  The bookstore closed more than 5 years ago.  The “For Lease” sign still hangs there like a bad reminder that what was will never be again. 
 
More movie segments continue on with the restaurants “Friendly’s” and “Pizza Hut.”  In the child-like colorful kaleidoscope and almost circus-like arena of “Friendly’s”, my friends and I gorged on personally served ice cream treats—one friend with her mint chocolate chip ice cream with ONLY the sprinkle of crunchy M & Ms and me with my Reeses Pieces Sundae, extra on the peanut butter river sauce spilling over the mounds of silken vanilla ice cream.  On Sundays, I remember my parents and I went there to eat sunny side eggs and stacks of pancakes drowned in maple syrup and topped with pats of butter.  At the “Pizza Hut,” my friends and I greedily inhaled deep dish personalized pizza pans and fried breadsticks dipped in tangy marinara sauce.  Both the “Friendly’s” and “Pizza Hut” are closed.  A corporate chain bank replaced the “Friendly’s.”  The “Pizza Hut” stands lonely on the outside with only darkness inside.
 
Now, the movie theater that I gallivanted to escape reality since I was a little girl has shut down.  As a little girl, going to that movie theater was like a world of its own where I took intimate photo booth shots with my friends and would inhale in intoxication the scented buttery popcorn with either them or my family while the massive screen played the movie and I melted inside the seats with my feet propped up against the seat in front of me.   The movie theater will be replaced by a car dealership. 
 
One by one, all my childhood places have fallen to the hands of money and corporations, and here I am an adult questioning and contemplating the beauty of innocence having to come to an end.  When did money and corporations become so powerful to take over all the places that hold fragments of my childhood?  Has the power of money always been this way or is it just getting worse because of the fast-paced times that I can barely keep up with? 
 
When we were young, everything was simpler.  We ran outside in the fresh air to play tag or pump our legs to see how high we could fly on the swings.  We caught snowflakes on our tongues and dropped in the pure white snowy blanket to make snow angels rather than fret and grumble about how we were going to have to shovel the snow and fight to get to work.  We did not have cell phones, iPads, Facebook, text messaging and NetFlix.  We held books in our hands to read, we had imaginations to run wild, phones we picked up to speak/listen to someone, letters to read/write, coloring books, hula hoops, and jump ropes.  When we were young, times were not so fast-paced and hurry and rush as it is now.  Everything goes so fast that I cannot keep up or stop to really digest what is happening.  When we were young, we had so much innocent fun.
 
I only have my memories as movie segments and strips to play on in my mind, and I see that I NEVER want to lose my sense of fun-loving and carefree innocence and zest for life and living no matter how much I grow up and eventually grow old.  I always want to find the magical in the simple, the wonder and wondrous in the wonderful, and the awesome in the awe-inspiring.   
 
Do you feel like innocence comes to an end?  What places hold your childhood memories that have now shut down due to corporations and money?  Do you think that it is when you are an adult that innocence and the sweetness of simplicity must come to a standstill?   Or is it just the times we are living in now that change as such rapid speed? 

The decisions were made for the banks and car dealerships to take over my childhood spots.  The bulldozers have come, gone, and are still plowing through the places that I never wanted to be robbed away from my friends, family, and me.  But, they have been stolen.  But, they are gone.  Yet, they and the memories live on in my mind to never take for granted and are never really gone as the memories play on.   
 
 
Keep smilin’ until we meet again,
 
 
Mary ;-) 
 

 

The Truth

The Truth
 
There are many secrets I have kept from you
They say that honesty is the best policy
But this must not be my responsibility
But I cannot take accountability
All the beauty you see in me will now get very ugly 
 
I stared at the back of your head
I hoped you could read my mind
So I do not have to speak the truth
So you could speak it for me
Then I can be free as the guilty party
 
Let me explain these secrets were sealed
Protection for the greater good
So I said, So I lied
To you or to me?
I am not even sure
I cannot even look at me anymore   
 
I could not look at you face
I could not look in your eyes
All these times, All these lies
My disguise will be my demise
Only a matter of time that you will despise
 
I could have told you the truth
To be the bearer of all this news
I did not have the courage to change your views
Of the person you made me out to be
Of the person that is not truly me
 
Nothing could be revealed
Everything had to be concealed
I hope someday you can try to understand
Why I denied and even lied
But, I must ask: Did I lie and am I so bad by keeping the true that would only hurt you and what we had?  
 
Now I see this is not about you or me
Everything that seems is not what really means
This is how the truth is, these are how the lies goes
No shadows of any doubts
The truth always has a way of coming out
 

I Don't Know

I Don’t Know
 
It starts
The attraction
Eyes meet
Heart beats
Electric sparks
Stars in the dark
 
I don’t know
What is happening
Why my insides are reeling
How I am feeling
Where we are going
When is the right timing
 
I wait
Interest and Intrigue
Curious and Delirious
Time stands still
Make it move fast
Not sure how long I can last
 
I don’t know
Pushed Buttons and Pulled Forces
Blindspots and Weakspots
We say go with the flow
We must go so very slow 
Let’s see where this goes
 
We try to understand
Find logic in the cosmic
What is it all for?
This cannot be ignored
Both wishing more
Fears and fright at the very core
 
I don’t know
You don’t know
We won’t know
Defies explaining
Demands exploring
Just experimenting
For us to reach any true knowing

Hands

HANDS

My hands are half your size
Tiny and Small
Like a Child, you say
 
Hands touch
Palms Press
Prayer Poses
Perfect Place
 
Your hands are double my size
Comfort and Warmth
Like home, I say
 
Hands meet
Soft Skin
Hot Heat
Molten Melt
 
I want to hold your hand
Long, Deft Fingers
Little, Nimble Fingers
Caress and Undress
 
Hands together
Twist and Tie
Knit and Knot
Lace and Loop
 
Our hands hold
Fingerprints and Imprints
Entwine and Intertwine
Which hands, now, are yours or mine?

 

The Boy who Watched the World with me

This is about the boy who watched the world with me.  
 
This boy never told me that he was watching me.  I never told him that I felt his eyes on me trying to place together the puzzle pieces of me.  Trying to figure me out.  I’m so glad that he couldn’t.  Or, maybe, he had already figured me out and even knew me better than I knew myself.
 
This is the boy who silently stood on the sidelines when I did crazy or unpredictable things.  Well, to many, it may seem crazy.  To me, it was just me being me.  When music began to play, my body began to naturally sway to the vibrations and reverberations with eyes closed as though I was all alone when I was really in a room full of everyone.  When I was in a room with the unfamiliar, I would randomly start chatting with them to familiarize with the hopes to befriend.  In the crowds, I laughed loudly and flitted from person to person to take ‘selfies’ (or, what I called ‘narcies’)  one minute to then, all of a sudden, leaving and nowhere to be found.
 
Yes, please let me explain. Please do not take my disappearance as rudeness.  I have the tendency to abruptly abandon big crowds.  Mainly because my body speaks loudly to me that it needs to stretch and move.  Partly because I am the outsider observer lover who cannot help but make-believe and make-up stories, conversations, and dynamics about the people I watch.  So, I listen when my body speaks.  So, I fulfill my hunger to watch the world.  So, I vanish into thin air, believing that no one is watching me.      
 
Most people do not question my vanishing act.  A couple select friends and my closest family members have sat with me to see if I was okay and that my body was not throwing a temper tantrum.  Most people, however, just let me be.  They leave me alone.
 
Not this boy, though.  This boy was unlike any other.  A rarity.  An originality.  When we were in a crowd for the first time and my body began to ache and hurt on the inside while I naturally smiled brightly on the outside, I said cheerily and nonchalantly, “I’m just going to sit over there and rest a bit.”  My disappearing act.   My world-watching.  Fresh air.  So many faces.  So many stories.  So much life breathing before me that would replay in my mind later that day and in my years. 
 
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him looking at me with a questionable gaze that flickered to a dawning realization.  He stopped everything he was doing and walked to where I was sitting.   He sat down next to me.   Not a single word spoken, but his eyes said that he understood me better than I did.  It was in this unspoken act that spoke volumes and louder than any words could possibly try to possess.  My facial expression did not betray my initial shock that he was the first and truly only person to ever accompany me in world-watching. We looked at each other.  We slowly sat back against the back of the bench to soak up all around us.   The people laughing the chatting.  The children running and giggling.  The marshmallow skies floating in an azure sky.  The earth scent of trees.  The floral scent of flowers.  We watched the world.  Together.  
 
This boy’s seemingly simple act of watching the world with me fills me with this radiating warmth and comfort that there is always someone watching us or even watching out for us.   This can be taken in the literal or even ethereal and unexplainable sense.  Yes, I do believe in guardian angels and God watching out for all of us in some sense.  Yes, I do believe in earth angels (like this boy) who watch us and watch out for us and, even luckier, watch the world with us.  Do you believe in all of this? Are you a world watcher like me?  Who are you watching?  Who is or who are the ones who watch the world with you?  Who has given you and meant the world to you just by watching the world with you?   
 
So, this was about the boy who watched the world with me.   We watched the world together.  For a little while.   Little did the boy know nor will he ever know that he meant and gave me the world just by watching the world with me. 
 
Keep smilin’ until we meet again,
 
Mary ;-) 

 
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