"/> Nose & Eyelashes

Nose & Eyelashes

musings of the beast and the brain inside the poet and artist that is ArinMaya




soapbox

i was recently at a cafe on an informal meeting with a friend/brooklyn stylist/designer. it was a rainy saturday morning.

she’s amazing and kind and beautiful and all that. we happened to choose seats next to this guy who i had met years before at a fundraiser on the same street where i sang. she knew him too. no biggie. we’re neighbors.

(sidenote: (even though i think i know the answer) WHY do americans swoon so much over british accents??)

anyway, the point: we all sat in the same area and every now and then he interjected with a conversation that was relevant to our not-os-private conversation.

at some point, he ended up looking at my etsy site for my scarves and such and placed an order for a scarf he was swooning over - in black. he just HAD to have it. i told him i could make it and have it to him ASAP - ASAP in this case being the following evening. we lived in the same neighborhood and i had his number. i would bring it to him.

i had the thought then, but hesitated, to ask him to pay upfront. i didn’t ask for that because i trusted that because we kind of knew each other and he made the order in a very public way, and was so excited about it, that it would be no problem.

i finished the scarf and reached out the next day - he preferred to get it the next day. i couldn’t meet that day and was busy until the following day - tuesday.

i called him - no answer. 

fast forward to his eventually calling me back saying he apologized and could he get the scarf on the following sunday - he was sorry. this was not how he did things but he’s been SO busy.

yea, ok.

fast forward to today (two days after sunday) and i still have the scarf.

and THIS is why i don’t take custom orders in person. send me an email, send me the money and i will get you your goods.

real neighbors don’t $hit on their neighbors

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of course

of course i’m talking to be heard

who isn’t?

but it’s also just a good way to release…this is one of the problems people have with blogs: they’re just online public journals

there are people who feel it’s not everyone’s business what you do and think and care about all the time

and i get that, and mainly agree - i don’t need to know the color of your stool

however, i think we are all fully accountable for what we do and don’t let in our sacred personal space

i don’t have to read anyone’s blog if i don’t want to

i already don’t read newspapers because i don’t trust news sources, and yea you may think the following makes me sound dumb, but i usually get my “news” from my fb feed

i trust the people i follow, and even if they’re often as faulty as news, at least i can trust they didn’t have ill intentions 

all this to say, we’re all in this world, looking for a connection, yearning for someone else to “get” us or understand us and stand in solidarity with us on some one thing or several things

just seeking a way to enact the truth that we really are all ONE

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i might be a hard nut (read: ass)

but i don’t meant to be
i just enjoy it when people are being who they are, instead of fabrications of the self God ordained them to be

i asked a friend earlier, doesn’t it feel better to just be yourself?

his response: well….

but i get it - we’re all acting like hamsters running on the wheel, until we realize we were meant to fly

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i have no idea

and never have had much of one on if anyone is listening to me

i just got off the phone with my mother who asked me if i thought the people at the temp agency were phony

i said “i think most people are phony”

i know that says something about the way my mind works, but i have this thing where if you don’t follow through with something you said you were going to do, i can’t take you seriously anymore

i believe in discretion - i don’t do a lot of telling my business

i keep to myself so other people aren’t much in my business

i do a good job of making people think they know much - they know little to nothing 

i am who i am and will be until something changes

sometimes writing is the only way i feel i can be real

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