#5 precisely cut

It's on repeat—
over and over again.
It's repeating. . .
Yet each time
more tears fall.
It's on repeat—
same words, same beat. . .
Yet each time—

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The General Who Almost Became Filipino: Rethinking Douglas MacArthur’s Legacy

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#4 precisely cut

You said to go with the flow— let the flow be the guide. We’re drowning over here! And don’t go telling me we must adapt in order to survive— grow fins and gills if we have to— We’re human beings! We’re no fish! We’re not some kind of supernatural beings that can just become  on a whim! Things take time. Period! Things take time— I repeat! And don’t go saying whatever you’re saying as if— Oh! Your sharp voice and fiery glares carry chains and whips like a tyrant wanting to build Rome in a day! Don’t! The mask won’t fit— so don’t. If you care— and I mean if you really do care — lead! Be an example! Understand. Be patient. We are not you— and no, we are never the team you actually wanted. But we can be— just— take care of us. That’s all.
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#8 precisely cut

One day, I’ll stand on that pedestal, bleeding my heart out, gouging the eyes of each audience as they watch me color the silence with beautiful, ever-changing notes. I will have their heartbeat and breathing sync in to my beat and rhythm. I will make them recall memories— so vivid, so frighteningly real— their overflowing tears will spill over into the sea. What do you say—maybe we can make a new ocean here, after the performance. Only the hums of a thousand birds will cheer, as their own hands make it so. Oh! I won’t hear only one soul or two calling for an encore— there will be many. And the conductor will have his hand raised already to follow the wish of the crowd. Then I can say: I am ready to die. This— is why.
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