Count On It

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When I was learning to play board games and card games I always lost.

I.

Always.

LOST.

No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much effort I put into it

I.

Always.

LOST.

The crazy thing is, I kept getting board game and decks of cards for birthday presents and Christmas presents  and it was a joke because when my family set the game up anyone could predicate that

I.

Was.

Going.

To.

LOSE.

 

This little note about me  was as predictable and it was a solid stone cold fact that when we went out for a meal my baby sister would always spill her drink.

Every.

Single.

Time.

 

The Sun will rise, the Moon will set, the planets will twirl.

And

I will always lose at games.

 

After years of never wining a

Single.

Solitary.

Game.

I refused to play games anymore.

Because

I

Was.

Always.

Going.

To Lose.

 

I

Think

I have learned a

lesson- whether it was a good lesson or a bad lesson isn’t the point because in the end

the epitaph on any tombstone will say that

 

She.

Never.

Played Games.

 

This is not  such a bad way to be  remembered.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Daily Addictions Prompt: PREDICT

 

Ghost Of An Idea

 

Photo A.M Moscoso

When I worked at a graveyard I used to hold back the urge to knock on the tombstones and mausoleum doors

and ask

” Is anybody there? Is anybody home?”

I wondered then and I wonder now,  what I would I have done  if someone had answered:

” Yes I am, why don’t you come on in and sit with me for awhile.”

That’s not the part that  stopped me from putting my hand to stone and asking if anyone was at home with their eyes capped shut and  their once fine clothes, selected by care and sometimes duty now covered by dusting of  mold and their small dark world  surrounded and filled  by a spider web of  decay.

The thing that puzzled me, that stopped,  me was wondering was

why was I always so sure I would say

Yes.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Daily Addictions Prompt: Decay

Meet Halloween’s Lil’ Sister- Valentine’s Day

The stores are stocking up on their Valentines inventory and gee whiz I can hardly wait for the big day to get here!

The interwebs will be awash with pictures of disembodied hearts and little demonic creatures flying through the air against a backdrop of pink clouds ( pink is my favorite color ) with bows and arrows clutched firmly in their little hands and there will be stories galore about people vowing to love each other until the day they die and beyond.

Valentines Day, it’s like Halloween but nobody is grossed out by soon to be corpses in love or little monsters who are armed and can fly in stealth mode or internal organs  wrapped in ribbons and in some cases being carried by birds.

Oh. And Candy is involved. I love candy.

So let’s all coast along  with a song in our hearts until the big day gets here and as we do that, let’s reflect on cadavers, candy and cacodemons in silk.

That’s what I’ll be doing. You know it. Right?

Daily Addictions : Coast

Try It. I Dare You.

I belong here

and you belong over there

I am in my place

I am righteous

and

you are lost.

That’s what everyone says

with hammer in hand, nails firmly clenched in their teeth.

Get the point?

Now go off and rot.

I’ve heard it all before.

Stay in the lines

stay in your box

magic marker your label on your forehead

inside of your eyelids

or else.

I say.

Tell me what else

because

“Nos libenter epulor super illos qui volo ut opprimendum nos,”

Daily Addictions Prompt: Border

Here Are My Tygres

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Darkness

despair

ruins of buildings, lives and the faces of people I knew

or thought I knew

visit me when I sleep.

 

These phantoms  drive the nightmares

that visit me, that haunt me, that call  the endless twilight in my head home

Dead images, abandoned words, forgotten promises and curses  brought to life again now live in the daylight

in each word I carve on stone, in paper on bone.

 

Daily Addictions Prompt: Motor

It’s A New You

It’s time to make myself over again.

It’s time to see new things, read new books dig a few graves behind an abandon factory or maybe one of those houses that have stood empty  for years and years  and have those yellow or sometimes neon orange stickers on the door or near the place where the door used to be.

It’s time to make myself over again.

Maybe I’ll try some new makeup, get a new hairstyle or get myself a face all together.

I’m handy with a needle and thread and I’m a whiz with anything that involves a sharp edge.

It’s time to make myself over again- I suppose.

Or.

I could easily stay the same non-descript fat, sloppy woman that rides the same train everyday and drives the same way to and from the station and nobody notices unless they literally walk into me because they’re  busy looking at their phones or they hurry to get home to watch TV or download porn onto their laptops or wipe their browser history on the family computer or something super important like that.

I could do that.

I could stay the same fat, sloppy,  non descript woman with messy hair who sort of drifts from moment to moment and doesn’t seem to be real or matter to anyone or anything at all.

For now.

You’re Welcome.

Daily Addictions Prompt: Invent

The Best Dog

Photo A.M. Moscoso

On New Years Morning

on the first day of a brand spanking new year of which I was excited to see in the night before

I found these balloons  tied into a bunch and resting on the side of the road.

It looks like someone had written all of the negative ideas, thought and images from their head onto these brightly colored balloons and then let them go to

where I  found them, waiting for me on the side of the road like roaches surprised when you flip a light on unexpectedly.

I  could see that every stroke of the pen had left something dark, something depressing that someone wanted to let go of and they did during their wonderful night of festivities and in the end all of their emotional vomit ended up at my feet scrawled in black sharpie on cheerful pastel colored balloons the next morning.

Depressing right?

Photo A.M. Moscoso

But then my dog, Hamish jumped on one and then the other and started to pop them, one by one.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I made him stop because I wanted to make sure he wasn’t getting a mouthful of balloon and he looked up at me with impatience and dare I say concern?

Photo A.M. Moscoso

My dog did not stop until each of those little brightly colored vicious monsters from inside of someone’s  head  that had been turned  loose on an expecting world that New Years Eve because they wanted to be rid of them were destroyed and when Hamish  was done we put them in the recycle bin where they would not spoil

anyone else’s walk on a bright beautiful morning

of a brand spanking New Year.

You’re Welcome Universe.

You owe my dog.

You owe him big.

amm

“Everyone thinks they have the best dog. And none of them are wrong.” — W.R. Purche

Daily Addictions Prompt: Banner