Glory Days

Our lives are filled with colorful pockets of hours.

Hours of joy. Hours of mourning. Hours of glory. Hours of bounding. Hours of sorrow. Hours of learning. Hours of envy. Hours of greatness. Hours of imperfections. Hours of growth. Hours of enlightenment. Hours of prosperity. Hours of condemnation. Hours of disgust. Hours of pain. Hours…

Hours of suffering.

Yes, suffering. A current of little dots permeating our lives like school of fish bandle up in a can. Fictional groceries camouflaged in a shopping bag. A left turn signal in the middle of an highway. An imaginary whopper of make-believe junction of impulsivity that makes bed, unvited.

Suffering is the glue that keeps on sticking without the adhesive. The red mat on the corner of our living rooms. It is never in vain but rewarding and it comes with its calling card.

Hours of glory!


School Dazie

I learned today, tomorrow and yesterday that friend, friends is just a word put on a box, a dry leave ecoing a flying dust, a beverage at an award season, written on a white paper with a stylleto pen. Classroom in session, lessons!

Heavy Lifting

We all need a lift sometimes, a breather from the craziness of our everyday lives.

We all need a lift from our breaking down moments to repair our souls and mend our broken hearts.

We all need a lift from yesterday’s menu of rewritten stories to tomorrow’s pathway to our Amen.

We all need a lift sometimes and how it comes to us and which form, we have no say but that we get that lift is what counts.

Embrace the miracle of life, lifting.

@ Angela Aguiar