Carvingthe Moon

Hey! Kudos to those people that asked me about how my reading went without me having to bring it up: Jonah, Earth Goddess, Zen...who else asked me last night?

Anyway. For those that didn't hear, it went very well and I enjoyed myself so much that I went and scheduled myself to go back next week. It was really enjoyable though. I ended up only reading Carving the Moon and Your Appeal and not either of the pieces I read in the Talent Show. But you see, I think that some of you people need to show up sometime and come watch, so I don't feel so alien up there. Who's game?

~Jasmine~

(thanks Marina for helping me to edit this!)

Carving the Moon

We used to be close. Wait, nowe used to be close—depending on the day. I'm sure that you remember how we shared all our secrets, confided in each other. We were best friends. We belonged to each other—or so I thought. Now you’re experiencing your personal social mixer, aren’t you? I’ve been removed from your equation. You have your friends, you don’t need me. Now I’m not anything to you. Just that girl over there that you used to know. Not anyone worthy enough for you to talk to them. I’ll get a nod if I’m lucky. Am I lucky, lucky, am I lucky today? No, I guess not.

So you try to be rid of this girl who smiles from across the room, secretly hoping for inclusion, acceptance and a bit of fucking attention that goes beyond a cursory nod. I’m tired of you ignoring me, I despise how you seem to think I’m only worth that cursory nod, I’m tired of your brush off. I feel like slapping you and saying “hello, here I am, wake up, idiot. I don’t need you or your demeaning bob of the head because I’m going to make it to the stars and back while you are still bobbing your head, bobbing your head and you can just continue to bob your head to your death because I’m going to carve my name in the moon while your head is just bobbing, bobbing and I’ll look down and you’ll stop bobbing your head, neck craned back and then you’ll raise your arm and extend a finger and point straight up at me and say “Look, look, I know that moon girl. Look!” and you’ll yell my name loud enough that I’ll hear you and I’ll glance down and laugh, while I’m bobbing my head, bobbing my head and flipping you off. You don't know what you did that day, you don't know that you were ignoring a lunar girl, you didn’t believe it when I said I was going to write and travel and make it to the stars and back, no you didn’t believe me then, I was just that girl that always faced the stars, never trudging along with her eyes staring at the sidewalk. Sure, I tripped some, but god, would you rather trip a few times and carve you name on the moon for Christ’s sake or always walk along, facing the sidewalk or staring into brick walls? (I hate to let you in on the secret or to burst your bubble but there’s no magic in brick walls, look up one day and you might know what magic is.) You know, you’re going to fall into one of those cracks in the sidewalk someday but nobody is going to cry for you because you didn’t even know you could visit the stars and you thought going to the moon was for important people but you know, I was never any more important than you but I made it to the moon, damn it, while you bobbed your head and looked for magic in brick walls.

I saw you last week. I dropped a penny and decided it was important enough for me to lean over and pick up. It was important to me, that tarnished, copper penny from 1983 because a lot of wonderful things happened that year, I’m sure. I couldn’t bear to lose that penny so I turned my head from the glittering sky and faced the dead sidewalk. I saw you there, underneath, peering up at the sky from below confining concrete. And I cried for you that day, pressing my fingertips against yours, I cried for a few moments for you who views the stars through cement. But I’m a vindictive bitch too and you know, I tried to tell you, I would have been glad to take you to the stars with me, your name would look great above mine, carved into the moon. I tried to tell you. But you didn’t listen and so now I pick up my penny and dry my tears. Here, a slight nod, just a bob of my head and I turn my eyed back towards the sky. I don’t want to see brick walls or dying people trapped below sidewalks . . . because I have a penny from 1983 and I’m sure a lot of wonderful things happened that year and I went to the stars and back and baby, my name is carved into the moon with fucking craters, so listen up fools. Don’t nod to me. Bow down, fall on your knees for me, My name is carved into the moon. Bow down to me, the ruler of the skies, queen of the stars—so fall to your knees for this Lunar Goddess.

wow. wow. ok, calm down marina... be critical...

ok, my favorite parts are from "i want to slap you and say..." to "...while I’m bobbing my head, bobbing my head and flipping you off." and "I had dropped a penny..." to the end. those just hit me. wabam. the beginning seems a little weak. i think it might be in how you read it though, it's hard to tell from just words on a screen. i really really like it jasmine. the language and ideas and imagery are so powerful. carving the moon, yeah...

-marina

That was awesome! ~Erin

I'm very bad at being critical, especially about writing, and I can't THINK of anything...I love it! That probably wasn't very helpful, but it's true. :) - Emma

Oh wow..that was amazing Jasmine! Wow... Ok right...be critical..um..well um.. the end did't seem to have as much feeling,as much emotion as the rest of it. But wow..that was awesome! - emily o.