𝑷 𝒆 𝒂 𝒓 𝒍

Lately, I've been craving a change or some kind of refreshment—I'm not quite sure which. You can see the result of this restlessness in my profile. As I find myself swiping between alternatives, I wonder if it's just me feeling this way. Why do I feel compelled to scribble a few thoughts in the midst of chaos, leaving everything else in the corner? It's only been four days, but it feels like forever. In one of those moments, all I want is to breathe life into a few words—that's my solace. But something else is demanding my attention, so I'm leaving this piece unfinished until I can return to find my peace here.
          
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          If God exists he isn't just butter and good luck. He's also in the tick that killed my wonderful dog Luke. Said the river: imagine everything you can imagine, then keep going.
          
          Imagine how the lily (who may also be a part of God) would sing to you if it could sing, if you would pause to hear it. And how are you so certain anyway that it doesn't sing?
          
          If God exists he isn't just churches and mathematics. He's the forest, He's the desert. He's the ice caps, that are dying. He's the ghetto and the Museum of Fine Arts.
          
          He's van Gogh and Allen Ginsberg and Robert Motherwell.
          
          He's the many desperate hands, cleaning and preparing their weapons.
          
          He's every one of us, potentially.
          
          The leaf of grass, the genius, the politician, the poet.
          
          And if this is true, isn't it something very important?
          
          Yes, it could be that I am a tiny piece of God, and each of you too, or at least of his intention and his hope.
          
          Which is a delight beyond measure.
          
          I don't know how you get to suspect such an idea.
          
          I only know that the river kept singing.
          
          It wasn't a persuasion, it was all the river's own constant joy
          
          which was better by far than a lecture, which was comfortable, exciting, unforgettable.
          
          — Mary Oliver.

I have ninety nine things to do but still here I'm publishing another poem. You can guess now why I still write. A new poem, 'As it is,' has been added in my latest poetry collection. 
          
          Give a read, share your thoughts, if your few seconds permit. Thank you for your every precious second, spend on my words. 
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1514714530-traveller%27s-heart-as-it-is
          
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          Are you getting notifications on your feed? I'm not getting any notification, perhaps another glitch of this platform. Best of luck for ONC to anyone, who's participating this year!

A new poem, 'Tu silencio' (Your silence) has been added in my latest poetry collection. Give a read if your few seconds permit—
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1513964140-traveller%27s-heart-tu-silencio
          
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          Here's the link of the part (I) as well, 'Nuestra canción (Our song).'
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1512461919-traveller%27s-heart-nuestra-canci%C3%B3n

i read somewhere that a bad man's karma will always be a good daughter cursed with loving men exactly like her father and i wonder what mine did in his youth that was so terrible that this must be my fate. i can run as far as my body will allow me to but i will always find myself at the feet of a shitty man begging for just a droplet of his love the same way i have chased my father down driveways pleading with him to stay. they say you can drown in even a teaspoon of water so maybe that is why i am so hellbent on even a sip of love being enough to sustain me for a lifetime but a belief doesn't outweigh a truth.
          
          i am tired of being the price of a man's sins and the beginning of another daughter's fate.
          
          — Mae setrova.

Wow! Thank you for all the reads and lovely comments today. I’ll respond to each one, but first I wanted to give a general Thank you! I’ll be back soon to read something of yours. (:

Then Almitra spoke again and said, And what of Marriage, master?
                And he answered saying:
                You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
                You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
                Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
                But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
                And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
          
               Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
                Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
                Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.
                Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
                Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of your be alone,
                Even as the strings of the lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
          
               Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
                For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
                And stand together yet not too near together:
                For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
                And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.
          
          From The Prophet (Khalil Gibran, 1923)
          
          __________
          
          Now, heaven knows how many inactive accounts were following me back then. It's dropping faster than my hair fall, lol! 
          
          Anyways, repeat announcement of my latest poem, "In the unmoving peak of silence." Check it out and share your thoughts. :D Maybe I will publish a new poem later (if possible)!
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1511970511-traveller%27s-heart-in-the-unmoving-peak-of-silence

I don't want a boyfriend who can't cook. I want a husband who is a chef. I keep covering certain deficits, like I have a million more chances left. I say, but this one is nice. Like I'm still picking just for me. He's funny and tall, sure, but what kind of father would he be? 
          
          He's pretty in the kind of way that will have you crying by the end of the night because something incredibly normal and valid that you said sparked yet another fight. I'm too old for this. I always have been too mature for my own good. But I waited to be something like a good Mexican daughter should. Like I'm serving a plate that I can't even eat, waiting to be acknowledged while he takes what should have been my seat. 
          
          Like I'm good for a Latina. Pretty but not like pretty should be pretty. Like I'm lucky that he even thought I was pretty the day that he saw me. He's protective in the sense that you can never go out. Cares about you so much that he never asked what your new book is about. To be a chef is to respect the baker. To know how to cook is to let someone else eat. My type of man would have gotten up so I could have taken his seat and watches from behind me as I win the entire game. 
          
          I don't want a boyfriend who thinks it's too hard to correctly pronounce my name but instead yells it from the front row of yet another sold out show. I don't want to have a boyfriend take up the space where my future husband is supposed to go who admires because of admiration, not because of the photos to take.
          
          part (ii) is pasted below!

I like that to remain a mystery wrapped in layers. Any guesses on your end?

thank you so much pearl, for all that you read. it really means a lot to me. i read all your thoughtful and lovely comments and they surely made me feel validated. so i really thank you for your support.
          i loved reading your work, and i would have loved to read more but i don't think i would be here now. your work has been amazingly unique, the poetry really beautifully penned with a wonderful combination of resonance and eccentricity to it, which makes one feel comforted as well as curious. i really hope you continue to write and hopefully publish someday, so i could buy a copy!
          
          i wish you well in life and literature <3

The last poem of '24, 'Homecoming' has been added in my latest poetry collection. Give a read if your few seconds permit—
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1506648485-traveller%27s-heart-homecoming
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          I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Also I've recently come across a cool reel.
          
          Can you introduce yourself here without telling me your name, education, nationality, job, income, or where you live?