Dear Prose(ers):
It is with deep gratitude I write to acknowledge all you have done for me this winter. I know I am not amongst the most prolific, well-spoken or intelligent in the group. I know I don’t read or write as much as others (especially lately). I know I have been largely slacking on my likes, follows and reposts, which makes me feel bad on Discord as I see I am missing some really great content. I know it has been such a long time since I have participated in a challenge and I missed so many great ones, both reading and writing them.
Yet this platform has been like an invisible hand holding mine through my seasonal depression. Each time I venture to share my heartspeak I receive nothing but positivity, love, encouragement and understanding.
This winter was the worst in a long time. I abandoned nearly all of my positive habits which have been my stabilizers over the years. This resulted in me shedding all the tears my dehydrated self (so much bourbon) could muster. Each morning I spent 2-3 hours lying in bed convincing myself to stay alive first. Get out of bed second. And so on and so forth until I found myself washed (most of the time), dressed (all of the time thankfully), and at my desk at work, where suddenly I fit again.
If it weren’t for @fudo, @ledlevee and @putski, I may have not written or socialized the entire winter. If it weren’t for The Prose, I might not have made it through alive.
So if you ever wonder if you make a difference in the world, know that if you read, liked, reposted, followed and especially commented on one of my sporadic posts this winter, you helped save a life. I can’t tag all of you for fear of missing someone and creating a hurt where I am only trying to pay back love, but if you are reading this, I am definitely speaking to you.
And of course my indebtedness to @jeffstewart and @A and @mamba and the other Prose ideators and administrators, known and unknown to me, knows no bounds.
I feel renewed this morning, woke up wanting to enjoy living instead of convincing myself to stay alive, so I know the depression has passed until late fall. And the very first thing I had to do, was say thank you to y’all.
Heartfully,
Mee Jong
One-Hundred-and-Forty-One Characters: A Micro-Novel
Once Upon A Time -
One and Two and Three and Four and Five and Six and Seven and Eight and Nine and Ten and Eleven and Twelve and Thirteen and Fourteen and Fifteen and Sixteen and Seventeen and Eighteen and Nineteen and Twenty and Twenty-One and Twenty-Two and Twenty-Three and Twenty-Four and Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six and Twenty-Seven and Twenty-Eight and Twenty-Nine and Thirty and Thirty-One and Thirty-Two and Thirty-Three and Thirty-Four and Thirty-Five and Thirty-Six and Thirty-Seven and Thirty-Eight and Thirty-Nine and Forty and Forty-One and Forty-Two and Forty-Three and Forty-Four and Forty-Five and Forty-Six and Forty-Seven and Forty-Eight and Forty-Nine and Fifty and Fifty-One and Fifty-Two and Fifty-Three and Fifty-Four and Fifty-Five and Fifty-Six and Fifty-Seven and Fifty-Eight and Fifty-Nine and Sixty and Sixty-One and Sixty-Two and Sixty-Three and Sixty-Four and Sixty-Five and Sixty-Six and Sixty-Seven and Sixty-Eight and Sixty-Nine and Seventy and Seventy-One and Seventy-Two and Seventy-Three and Seventy-Four and Seventy-Five and Seventy-Six and Seventy-Seven and Seventy-Eight and Seventy-Nine and Eighty and Eighty-One and Eighty-Two and Eighty-Three and Eighty-Four and Eighty-Five and Eighty-Six and Eighty-Seven and Eighty-Eight and Eighty-Nine and Ninety and Ninety-One and Ninety-Two and Ninety-Three and Ninety-Four and Ninety-Five and Ninety-Six and Ninety-Seven and Ninety-Eight and Ninety-Nine and One-Hundred and One-Hundred-and-One and One-Hundred-and-Two and One-Hundred-and-Three and One-Hundred-and-Four and One-Hundred-and-Five and One-Hundred-and-Six and One-Hundred-and-Seven and One-Hundred-and-Eight and One-Hundred-and-Nine and One-Hundred-and-Ten and One-Hundred-and-Eleven and One-Hundred-and-Twelve and One-Hundred-and-Thirteen and One-Hundred-and-Fourteen and One-Hundred-and-Fifteen and One-Hundred-and-Sixteen and One-Hundred-and-Seventeen and One-Hundred-and-Eighteen and One-Hundred-and-Nineteen and One-Hundred-and-Twenty and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-One and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Two and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Three and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Four and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Five and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Six and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Seven and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Eight and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Nine and One-Hundred-and-Thirty and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-One and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Two and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Three and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Four and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Five and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Six and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Seven and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Eight and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Nine and One-Hundred-and-Forty and One-Hundred-and-Forty-One joined forces as collective Protagonists and, despite an epic struggle, resolved to defeat their Antagonist -
The End.
Flowers
We are all like flowers -
Even in our birth.
Like a seed
planted
in the ground
yet swaddled with such mirth.
And when we grow
you surely know
that we all must be watered.
With love and grace,
strength and faith
all so wonderfully cottered.
So let us flourish
always nourished
like daylilies
in the sun.
As we must not forget
lest we come to regret
Any time that we have wasted
On Earth, meandering
slandering, pandering
void of a care in the world.
Life is shorter
Than we'd like to think
So let's be aware of the hours -
Sun can turn into showers
ever quickly
And we must try, not cower
Our time's like a race
The time ticking
down
Like beaming rays
of the sun
We'll run, run,
run and run,
Hebrews twelve
verse one.
Yes, we are all like flowers
changing through the seasons
Birthed, growing
always knowing
We're here
for so many reasons.