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when the song hits the screen
it’s a group of white boys doing the shuffle
an entirely innocuous moment.
who sings this, again?
sleepless nights and giddiness, feeling 15 (in all the good ways).
investing in air pods, exploring a new culture, learning about xenophobia in music and Elvis songs as American colonialism, writing again, rediscovering my body
putting away the sweatpants.
I daydream of new tastes, crowded streets, unfamiliar sounds.
(But it is also devastating. Shattering my apathy, cracking apart the weariness of daily tasks and reminding me . . . )
there used to be
sneaking to the roof of Duomo di Milano during a lunch break,
dipping my feet in the Ganges,
jumping over a private fence to climb Sugarloaf,
a nude swim after a horse ride on Playa Zipolite.
art parties, lust and turmoil, the corporate ladder, making a difference, being selfish, being self righteous, being in love . . .
leaving so much behind
to make a baby,
raise a kind human
be a stable partner.
local jobs and volunteering, tending scraped knees and sick pets.
balancing budgets. meal plans.
existence through daily checklists.
folding parts of myself into manageable shapes and tucking them away…
and now, in the time of COVID, trapped in an inescapable bubble of dusty monotony, lured in by a disco beat,
I explode into
(but the heartache)
it starts quietly, a throb in the stomach,
soon pressing me like a grieving flower under its weight
I remember my early wrinkles, my graying hair
(I am not proud of my “wisdom”)
the laundry monopolizes my time. the dishes are endless.
my light is dimming as I pass it to others like nectar.
Have I faded?
way past midnight, selfishly pilfering energy from my future self, the house finally silent — I take time to grieve . . . and dream.
I allow the juicy sweet pleasure and fervor of youth, dormant for far too long, to engulf me.
my best friend from 7th grade texts me on my birthday:
“Age is a state of mind and we don’t live in that state anymore.”
DAMN RIGHT. Life is sweet as honey.
Scrolling mindlessly through Instagram in Month 6 of the Pandemic, I saw a video of a dance routine using a newly released song by a K-pop group. It seemed like a brief, innocent moment (I just wanted to know their names!) that ended in a lot of sometimes difficult self-reflection.
— Maria F.
I write things – professionally and for fun (USA).
Illustration By: Snigdha, @BEingSnigdha7
Maria F. (2021). Heartache & honey. The Rhizomatic Revolution Review , (3). https://ther3journal.com/issue-3/heartache-honey.
Maria F. “Heartache & Honey.” The Rhizomatic Revolution Review , no. 3, 2021, https://ther3journal.com/issue-3/heartache-honey.
Heartache & Honey by Maria F. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
@ Maria F., 2021