A Deviation

Well, very few of ya’ll know that I have an obsession with writing.

So when I’m not blogging with Grandpa Dinosaur or generally being awesome I tend to write things.

A friend of mine suggested writing the first things that come to my head and I’ve done just that. THANKS FRIEND!!

And now, for your weekend fluff pleasure, I present:

I Would Never Write Anything Sad
Cut by: Davita Cuttita

I always promised myself that I would never write anything sad.

When I write, I want to give hope to people, educate people—make them laugh, make them think, make them wonder, invite them to dream, debate and discuss.

I’ve broken that promise quite a few times but I’ve never apologized for it because within sadness is much truth which I think, is worth more than anything.
So I continue to write half-finished stories, half-truths and I continue to live life in full sadness and honesty.

The desk, the chair, the paper, thirty-two point five hours a week, dancing hard hand to mouth and never, ever having enough. My mother is a work-horse and so was her mother and I, being my mother’s daughter, follow in her footsteps; cursing the dust all the way. I work to survive and am never satisfied by the fruits of my labour and am constantly bamboozled, just as my Grandfather was.

I think about the forgotten children who are sick and hungry. I think about the people who cannot walk. I think about the people with more money than they know what to do with, then I think about what more I can do remembering to run down the “who, what, when, where, why” and “how” like in seventh grade.

Sometimes I am overcome by great emotion, an oddity I’ve nothing but hatred for.
I do my best to stay on auto-pilot, flying through the stars and galaxies, mesmerized by the thought that someday, the sun will rise while I eat my black holes in milky way. Someday, the sun will rise and instead of emotion, I will be overcome by warmth and joy.

Will I still feel hatred or will I feel an insatiable avarice?

Anxiety is a pain in the chest that I’ve had for years. If you ignore it, it only gets worse so one must sit down and breathe or have a drink of water. I prefer to go to sleep because that is the only time the world turns off. I either dream of nothingness or I wake up and can’t remember anything at all which the same as dreaming of nothingness anyway. A lot of the time, I just can’t sleep and ask God why.


I imagine a tear duct looks like hollow string that is very clear and glistens in light. In a kitchen filled with sunlight and clean dishes, counters, sinks and windows, I reach into the corners of my eyes and pull them out whilst coughing terribly as blood lubricates their exit route. I feel no pain. I examine them for a brief moment in the light as they shine like diamonds, casting tiny ghost-worm shadows across my face. I flush one down the sink, the other down the toilet and sit on the floor. In a trance. With a heavy heart, fingers, chest and hands.

The sun never stops shining and I forget to ask God why.

Well…that’s enough. Have a nice weekend!


~ by davitacuttita on August 8, 2008.

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