Gaps, patches and in-betweens

I like routine.  It is dependable. Something you are sure will happen  if you don’t do anything out of the ordinary. Route  Pattern  Predictable  Usual  Standard  Basic  Regular  Boring Mine. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

It used to be a part of your identity   It’s the way you express a pause, a reflection a hesitation  It’s been how you write — a sudden detour of a thought before it brings us back to the intention. But now automation with an intelligence that we provided it  has robbed us of these en and em dashes. Now when you use them, it seems the narrative is not yours  and you have to convince your readers that you wrote the piece, nevermind if you’ve always sounded the same.  At times you are even accused of sounding AI.  But shouldn’t it be AI sounding like me? I was here first.  All 55 years of me.  But artificial intelligence is said to replace the writers  after they steal our voices, mimic our style, borrow our ideas and will eventually reboot our brains from what is real and true  to a version of it, which may just as well be a lie.  Soon, I will be done. I may forget to write or stop altogether.  And the proof of my outputs will b...

are the songs that I cannot,   for the life of me,   get the lyrics right.  We can only read them  in Songhits and music sheets which later became the Multiplex mini book  printed in size 6 font.  But it didn’t matter.  Our eyes were sharp. And eventually,  the Karaoke, with a screen  that renders our childhood TV set  with its cabinet-like sliding doors and knob,  antique in its former magnificence. The songs that whisper our secrets  and declare our existential thoughts. The ones you sang with me The ones whose lyrics we changed The ones we sat in silence with as the invisible beat throbbed  through looks across the room,  through bodies swaying to the rhythm  of the head and glass shots banging  more than the drums. And the silent mornings  when a groan from a hangover  and a sigh  promised more than any love song. The ones that don’t sound good  ...

You cannot breathe. The quiet unnerves you. The birds' chirping seem much louder than usual. You are immobile. You cannot do the laundry or vacuum and even those that do not need power,  like watering the plants, fixing your space,  being kind. There’s no electricity. You try to be productive.  You look at the forebodingly regular mop.  You think about the dishes — anyway, you still have water.  All the things you are supposed to do feel like a big effort.  You wait. Forever sets. You think about loves, lives and a little about work and how will you make do tonight  as the hot air sweeps in. Perhaps with the doors and windows open, on the cold floor praying for a cooler temperature when the sun sets. You start thinking about what you can lie down on. But you don’t get up to get the carpet.  Maybe you’ll wait for the power to come back. There is conflict at the border.  Aeroplanes are flying overhead. You think about the connection betwee...

I started watching the news. I couldn't stop. I had to open a bottle. I started drinking. I couldn't stop. And here we are.  "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

how I sing my song how I play the piano how I recite the poem how I tell the story of you How I recognize you How I know it’s you I am afraid. I can only hope that my love for you will survive the pain and hurt I have caused that may make you want to forget. Please remember for me as long as you can  because pretty soon, I won’t, you see but you can. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo