WHY!!

swirling around a cloud with a broom stick, she is bored with life. she has spread mayhem and mischief in the world, and several surrounding planets. she has achieved more in her 500 years of existence than any old crone before her. indeed, she is often referred to as the queen of the churails by her neighboring jinn friends and gargoyle cousins. but she has lost her will for mischief. almost absently, she evaporates the cloud over the thirsty field of rice, and allows the one over the open air garden party to burst into rain. she leaves a trail of spiteful hail and sleet mud behind her. with one poke, she pushes a car off the road into a tree, maiming a bus of children for life. then she decides to poke a tumors into the survivors.

and suddenly – she is tired. come on witch. life must have more to this.

a spark of inspiration – she realizes she’s been looking at this the wrong way. why spread massive destruction across a scale of millions? the misfortune is just one little blip in their pathetic lives. why not destroy the life of just one person – but wholly and completely!

what an idea!

she cackles with glee – alive again after centuries. woo hoo!

and so the mother in law is born.

i’m an empty husk
hollowed
hallowed
waiting for consecration

i hate
me, you, him, her, us, them
i want to be so much more than what i am
i am the sum of
: longings unknown
: future unknown
: past forgotten

confused, twirling, pretty circles empty of color
wanting to die
wanting to live
hating life and hating death
in constant waiting

its been so long that i don’t remember anymore.

can’t remember what its like to write.

to actually put that inner voice into words.

i so badly wanted to initially. then like any other addiction, it becomes a dull ache after awhile, like a musty whiff of dry alcohol out of an unused liquor cabinet.

like wanting chilli chips from a long gone canteen from a long gone break time.

like looking at a blank cream white canvas and seeing lines burn across it like an afterimage on an inner eye aching to carve out chalk onto paper.

i’m good at ignoring the important addictions. its the minor ones like caffeine i can’t kick.

what would i want to be? a mathematician. an artist. a writer. an event manager. interior designer. restaurant owner. book shop owner. art gallery owner. house wife. socialite. alcoholic.

i need to numb the images in my brain. i need to focus, i need to think of what i really want to be. i need to go through the process four year olds go through when writing an essay in class 1.

(ironically in my essay i said i wanted to be a mummy, just like mine. i even drew a picture of her. i loved essay writing always. i got a star because i was the only girl in class who didn’t want to be a fairy or a princess when they grew up)

someone wiser once said: to be or not to be. that is the question.

unfortunately he didn’t come up with a direct answer.