Traffic & Washing Dishes

The only activities of the day that give me enough time...

I write here as my journals are packed away in a box, my entire life is packed in a box ready to move but i tell myself its time to process your emotions, the looming feeling in your chest that words do not cover… there’s so much work to do there’s so much to do and i hope God can forgive me for everything.

I hope God can forgive me for being a sinner and i hope God can forgive me for not listening, i hope God forgives me over and over, again and again…

I have started smoking again, and i haven’t acknowledged it. I tell my friends im sorry for not texting back, but then again I don’t know how to talk to God either.

God i don’t know how to talk to you, so i write here aimlessly, hoping this counts. God can you forgive me for my sins? God did you forgive me for my sins? am i forgiven? God can u make things easier, God can you forgive this sinner?

I am 20 yet the ache feels deeper of time, i am just 20? i don’t even remember the years left behind, i dont remember the time that passed and i dont not recognize the reflection in the mirror once again. God forgive me for my sins.

You drive everyday in a shitbox made of rusted metal, 4 wheels and in between somewhere, God and the prayers of your mother. You silently watch the traffic police waving his arms and think of his shift hours, u think of how long he’s spent waving his arms in the air like an inflatable tube man. How many months and years he’s spent signaling to people to continue on with their lives, while he stands there, waiting for the hours to pass.

You think of how he washes his dishes or if he even does. You think of how he would put on music or wash the morning plates in silence, thinking of his mother and how shed mock him if he left a spoon in the sink. Or maybe, just maybe he thinks of nothing, humming along to a ghazal that he liked as a child while his shoulders and knees ache from the days of standing on his feet and waving at people to continue with their lives.

Dear God, …..