She smelled just just like peanut butter and jelly. 

Had a blonde Jheri curl and hosted the after school program from 3:00 to 6:00. Her skin was  colored and she let them watch the Lion King. On Friday, her surrogate children did the Electric Slide because she would bring her silver boom box.
Mrs. Aderly.

memory #326




Right Kind of Wrong

eiffel_tower_at_sunrise-t2“Every body here was someone else before”

A big part of growing up is about coming to terms with what you have grown up to be. The times when you remained uncannily silent, perhaps out of sheer fear, even though speaking up would help resolve the conflict much faster. A friend just called out to you, “I can’t trust you with anything anymore.” Now if this was in school, you could have probably rushed to a toilet cubicle and cried your eyes out.

But, what do you do when you are 22?

Wait for your eyes to turn red and the tears to trickle down your eyes. It’s production time at office. The loo can wait.  You have mastered the art to cry silently. To address grief objectively. To not question the who what whys in a desperate attempt to be mature.

You are often lackadaisical, selfish, wallowing in self-pity…

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