Unconfined Thoughts 28 – Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

My hair is thinning and it coats my bedroom floor. Every time I get up from my bed or from my chair, the hair drifts around my feet and I’m reminded of my stress. Like a considerate person, you ask, “What are you stressed about?” I pull a face, shrug and I’m already dissociating when I say, “I don’t know!”

Every morning, I pull back the curtains and a stream of light streams in. I expect to be knocked off my feet as a realization that things aren’t as bad as I make them to be. Half-way through the day, I open the window to air out the stale air and hope that the cool breeze can help me stop losing hair.

On an odd Tuesday morning, I pick up the broom and sweep away all the stray hairs. Enough has cumulated that it’s enough if you gathered it into your hands, it would look like a hamster from the distance when in reality, it’s all the hair that’s taken the jump. I sigh loudly so that it echoes my mind, but not loud enough so that I can do anything about it. It lingers before it drifts away just like each day as the sun comes and goes, allowing time for night to fall.

The Beasts of the Grey | Poetry Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I hope this summer has been good to you so far!

The Beasts of the Grey

“I swear, it’s that squeaking fan.”
she mutters, glaring down the rotating metal,
clanking and blowing cool air around the room, yet
for some reason her mind remains hot and unsettled.
Down the street, she hears trucks driving
from point A to
point B with the latest summer hits, hotter than the summer sun
but her envious heart feels as cool as the end of Christmas.

Blood drips from her nose and she leaps to a start.
“What in the world! Why is my nose bleeding?”
The bright red color illuminating all life shakes her to the core
as she’s reminded of her origin story,
starting from two into a beautiful unification to multiplication.
She stares at the veins crisscrossing on her hands and
wishes she could see the blood racing around like messengers.
All she feels is the startling pulsating
and the quietness of her soul
and the words, stuck.

Thunder strikes the sky in frightening allure,
the roar quickening the pulse housed in her chest.
Her eyes remain glazed, glossy, gilded with a sheer covering of
tears, the supposed material of renewal.
Lightning flashes across the city, catching her eyes
as she looked for where it came from and all she could see
was a sea of grey, ominous and looming.
She wonders after a spark of color finally floods her fears,
drowning them and wiping them afresh.
“Where are the whales that swim in this sea?”

If you got a sad connotation from this poem, then you’re on the right track. This poem is meant to give off the vibe of helplessness in the ordinary, but with struggled attempts to better things. For those who have been reading my works, you’ll know that there is always a line where I tie everything together and oftentimes, that line is the spark of hope even in a sadder poem.

Basically this poem’s motive is to inspire getting out of a lackluster situation, specifically loneliness. We’ve all dealt with loneliness before ranging from you’re walking by yourself to being at a party, but finding no one you could relate with. With the narrator in the poem, she seems to be pretty trapped within herself especially with the act of pulling herself together. There are bought of frustration (the squeaking fan) and distractedness, yet in the end, the color comes back to life.

In the first stanza, it’s obvious that she’s envious of people traveling and doing things, but with the second stanza, she starts to ground herself and finds perspective in remembering who she is and where she came from. I took it literally and wrote about conception, the origin of life. And in the third stanza, the narrator is literally startled into a new state of thinking, breaking free.

This leads onto the title of the poem, The Beasts of the Grey. It’s meant to be a double entendre with the mention of the whales at the end of the poem and the “beasts” that can be anything that troubles you and the “grey” would be the mind. The main focus of the poem are those “beasts” that live in the “grey”, which often times we choose to hide instead of dealing with.

I hope you enjoyed the poem!

Alice

Randal | Quick Piece Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I hope enjoyed my funny little story, Randal! First of all, let me apologize for the bad timing of my posts. Last week, I was traveling so that botched up my schedule a little. Hopefully everything will be sorted out soon.

No surprise — this story was inspired by a picture I saw of a duck casually sitting in the toilet. I was also having trouble coming up with a story at that time and when I was aimlessly scrolling, I happened to gaze upon that lovely duck. Voila, a story I never thought I would create, but it’s posted publicly with the starting lines I found a duck in the toilet today.

Personally, I wanted it to be a purely silly story. Instead, it turned into a story with an underlying meaning of “take it easy”. Like a little message to myself, take it easy.

Fun fact: I picked the name, Randal randomly and I was happy that the meaning of the name means, adventurous!

Anyways, I hope you liked my story!

Alice

Randal | Quick Piece

I found a duck in my toilet today. Usually I’m never at my brightest self in the morning, but I knew that something wasn’t right. I closed my eyes and screamed, hoping that it would go away, that I was still dreaming and that I should’ve eased up on my work. Instead, I heard a dignified quack and gave up on a shower. I sighed and headed back to my room, changed into my running gear and found myself pounding two miles with ease. Yet, with each step I took, the to-do list in my head grew longer and I couldn’t wait to get home.

When I got home, my roommate now cradling the duck, greeted me. “That duck was yours?” I said without thinking. “You know it was sitting in the toilet.” She laughed and shook her head. “Oh, classic Randal. He always likes to get himself into weird places. Wherever there’s water, he’ll be there.” I continued staring at her. The duck quacked at me and I frowned. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you that I got a pet duck. I just wanted to switch things up from a fish or a cat. Anyways, his name is Randal and he’s pretty chill.” she casually said. I always knew she was a strange one, but she always knew how to keep things interesting. I sauntered into my room and heard the soft padding of the duck’s feet following me and quickly slammed the door before it made its way to me. From a distance, I could already hear my roommate calling out to the duck, the duck’s feet softly padding back to her. I stripped down and wrapped a towel around myself and tip toed to the bathroom, glad that Randal wasn’t sitting in the toilet again. As the water ran down my back, I thought about work in a couple hours. Honestly, it’s so dreadful because all I do is make copies for my supervisor and bring him coffees and snacks whenever he wants. Technically I’m supposed to be the assistant, but I feel like I’m just his bitch. I shut off the shower and feel the cool breeze hit my wet skin when I hear a quack. Without peeling back the shower curtains, I screamed for my roommate. “Hey Adelina! Your fucking friend, Randal here is chilling with me in the toilet when all I want is some quiet and private time in the shower!” I squatted in the tub and wrapped my towel around myself, taking time to peek around the corner only to catch the gaze of the damn duck. “What you looking at, punk? You’re going to make me late.” It stared back at me and quacked again and I flipped it off. “Alright alright, I’ll come get my Randal.” my roommate came in and laughed, speaking directly to the duck. “Why do you love the toilet so much? You just love to chill in there, don’t cha?” I gave a sigh of relief once my roommate left with the duck, cradling it in her arms, ignoring the fact that toilet water was dripping down her arms. I dried myself and headed back to my room, got dressed and sat on my bed, savoring every minute before I had to go to work. As I was heading out the door, my roommate was sitting in the living room stroking the duck. She jokingly said, “Maybe you should learn to be like Randal — chill and adventurous.” For some reason, that phrase stuck with me and after I came back from work, I wandered over to the bathroom in hopes of seeing Randal. Instead, I found him sitting in my room, looking as content as ever. Slowly, I approached it and whispered, “Who knows, maybe I could learn a thing or two from you.” In acknowledgement, the duck softly quacked back at me.

Final Words | Quick Piece Breakdown

Hello everyone,

Right now, it’s kind of chilly where I’m at, which is weird since I thought it was summer! Anyways, I hope you liked Final Words.

This story was sparked by a conversation I had with my friend about what we would do if the world was going to suddenly end. It was a pretty interesting conversation and I don’t know about you, but I really enjoy talking about this stuff.

I wanted this story to not blend in with the rest of the “apocalypse” stories with the plot line going towards rushing away from disaster with a newfound lover or rushing towards government authorities to confront the issue or to write a story about someone panicking. I wanted to give a strong sense of odd calamity that radiated from the protagonist. I may have focused too much on getting the theme out and got too excited on writing an apocalypse story that I forgot about describing some key logistics.

I purposely decided to not describe who the person was that called the protagonist because it could be a family member or a lover, but the idea was to remember even in the hardest times, there is always hope. Sounds cheesy? Sorry, but even though it’s a simple concept, these ideas tend to escape our mind when we’re in the midst of a conflict. I wrote this story kind of as a reminder to myself.

I hope you enjoyed the story! Also, please leave me suggestions for Noble Chats!

Alice

PS. I didn’t actually state that the protagonist died from the comet, but comets are pretty intense. It’s up to you to decide!

Final Words | Quick Piece

The phone rang and I reached over to grab it so fast that I nearly fell out of my chair. “Hello?” I answered, but all I heard was a loud, high-pitched tone. “Damn!” I pulled the phone away from my ear. “What the hell-“ I was cut off when a smooth female voice started to speak. “Emergency. This is a worldwide emergency. All beings are in danger due to imminent comet approaching in 6 hours.” I scoffed. This is probably a prank call from a bored 12 year old. “This is not a joke.” the voice continued. “Comet will make a direct hit in 6 hours. Please stay calm and stay with your loved ones. Further information can be found online through all news channels and keep updated through Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.” My hands began to shake slightly. I could’ve imagined it, but the final words that came from my phone will always haunt me. “You have one life and it’s going to end soon. Make the most of it.” And with a final click, the voice was gone.

For the first hour, my phone continued to ring off the hook as I sat still and motionless in front of my TV with my laptop quietly heating up on my lap. Messages flooded into my inbox from bosses, old lovers and high school classmates saying that I was a great worker, apologies with reasons I don’t recall and an onslaught of memories that I had long filed away. As I watched the reporter talk about the axis and momentum of the comet, a part of me wanted to believe that it was all a hoax. The government wanted everyone to stop complaining and pay more mind to them or maybe it was a rich guy’s  sad idea of teaching everyone gratitude. For all I know, the comet could even miss. I couldn’t accept that six hours was all I was going to get. Yet, I continued to diligently answer each call, reassuring, crying and yelling with everyone. What else can I do?

For the next hour, I wandered the street and tried my best not to lose my faith in humanity. Broken glass lay strewn all over the ground, couples straight up naked in the middle of the road while cars honked endlessly at them. Discounts filled stores still with clothes still swinging, but stores with bold red letters screamed, “Take it all! It doesn’t matter anyways!” with things like novelty garbage pails gone within minutes — one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. There was no point in driving because of the amount of people wandering the streets, carefree and carelessly. It was like the illusion of safety was popped and what we were left was who were truly were. By now, my phone had generally quieted down, so I was surprised when I received a call from an unknown number. “Hello?” I answered, hoping it was the same cool voice from 3 hours ago taking everything back. “Hello?” No one responded. I tried a third time. “Hello? Is anyone there? The world is ending and I don’t want to be that jerk that hangs up on you. For all I know, you might be someone pretty important who needs company.” There was a sigh on the phone and a voice so small and fragile that I had to lean in to hear. “I love you. You were the first person I thought of when the mess of the world started to unravel because to me, you are the calamity and color of the world.” A final click ended the call. The final words comforted my soul and I walked down the street under the rapidly deteriorating and fearfully raw world, their screams lifting up to meet the incoming comet.

107.9 FM Summer Hits | Poetry Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I hope your June is going well so far!

107.9 FM Summer Hits

I’m in love with the shape of you.
But she said, where’d you wanna go?
How much you wanna risk?
‘Cause I got issues
But you got ‘em too
So give ‘em all to me
And I’ll give mine to you
Oh na na, just be careful, na na
Love ain’t simple, na na
My sunrise on the darkest day.

Top 100 hits
YouTube views scratching the millions
Commenters loving the singer, being the faithful fan, a first discovery
Interviews with Ellen, Jimmy Fallon and Conan — the big names
What an amazing performance!
And they glow with their perfect contours, hot swag and
go back to touching the hearts of teenagers
just wanting to feel the wild side of life
through accessible lyrics.

And my heart stops and my hand pauses
as I scroll through the FM and AM trying to find a drivable tune
only to hear a love confession that could only be
whispered to me in the dark, your lips brushing my ear lobe
being filtered through glamour lips
and my heart can’t help,
but swoon.

Can you guess which songs I put in my poem? They’re pretty well known at the moment, so I’m pretty sure you can guess. Starting from the first line, it’s Shape of You by Ed Sheeran, Something Like This by Chainsmokers feat. Coldplay, Issues by Julia Michaels, No Promises by Cheat Codes feat. Demi Lovato and Despacito by Luis Fonsi feat. Daddy Yankee. Give them a listen and see if they speak to you in any way.

This poem is basically about how millions of people listen to these songs intentionally or unintentionally and one line or the entire song speaks to them despite it being so public, in-your-face, or mass produced. From the first stanza, I go from the particular lyrics that have spoken to me to the image that the singers have to the more individualist image of listening to the song and connecting it to a memory.

I think this is why there are so many “love” songs in the musical industry and why we just love talking about romance. We either lack it, so we want it. We have it, but our experience is always unique, but similar, so we want to share. Or we want to reminisce on a portion of our lives that was good. Whether or not we want to admit it or we like to proudly show it, these pop songs somehow make their way into our lives.

Which song do you like so far? Issues by Julia Michaels has been running in my mind lately.

Thanks for reading,

Alice