A Guest Post by Queen of Spades: "My Truth Is Like"

 

There are many things in the world
That we may not like.
Perhaps the majority of them
Are things we’ve done.
But nothing ever good ever blossoms
When instead of being truthful
We opt to run.

Sure there are many people that say, “Just tell me the truth.” Others who will go a step further and add “Don’t sugarcoat it.” I’m willing to bet there would be millionaires abound for every person who said those statements, but the moment they receive the truth, want to ‘Return to Sender’.

Man, I’d be on a luxury yacht right now, sipping on some champagne, basking in the glow of a sun about to set.

Let me get focused.

If you don’t know anything about me—whether it be my pseudonym or my just being Moni—know this:

I do not use the words friend or love loosely.

Okay, let me run that by all of you again.

I do not use the words friend or love loosely.

If you haven’t been called a “friend “by me, then you aren’t—even if you think I’m a friend to you. Don’t put that on me—I don’t dictate your bullet list that determines what falls into your friend zone.

If I haven’t conveyed the word “love” towards you, then you aren’t occupying that space in a way that is mutually conducive.

The way my friendship and love is set up, truth is not an exception as it applies to you. 

Do I have some consideration for your feelings when I deliver my thoughts? Certainly. I recognize the power of words— how one wrong word can throw off the entire ambiance of what is to be achieved. Writers who are obsessed with their words recognize that. People who realize their words yield not only portable magic but power, recognize that. People who are tapped into the energies of the universe recognize that.

However, I am not that friend who sees you making a tragic mistake but keeps mum. If you’re talking about going to meet your maker, I’d rather deal with you hating me in this life than have you loving me to your grave. Especially when I’ve walked a path and have suffered similar pain—I’m not that female that’s going to butt out.

Through time, I’ve discovered my truth isn’t for everyone. Even in its softest tone or typed words, it rubs others like sandpaper. I’ve suffered the fate of being someone’s season as opposed to someone’s lifetime.

Back in the day I would have felt slighted. How dare you deny this platinum friendship/love I’m giving you?

Now I just shrug, chalking it up to people just appreciating pretty little liars, or our paths being in such opposition that it was destined for one to thrive while the other withered.

Some choose to run and never stop running.

I choose the truth in humanity and its classification as a work in progress. One has to recognize what’s grime before selecting the ingredients to make things shine. Along with that is accepting that stuff won’t get fully restored to the original—something, someone will always know about the hidden cracks.

So not all Truths I write about are mine but they could very well belong to someone else. I do come into these publications with heightened awareness—that the reception could be fiery, lukewarm or none at all.

My pen offers no apologies. It is what is meant to be.

I am the revolutionary of the ordinary,

Taking everyday experiences

And making them metaphorically extraordinary—

The regurgitation of the reactions

That you can’t covey

Because you have to act accordingly

On the world’s grand stage.

I take the heat, so you will have your heartbeat:

The right to choose something different

Than works which are daft.

Many are quick to ride the now

Just to generate sales,

But I’d rather bleed out

Than to ever pimp my craft. Excerpt of “Gush” from Life-O-Suction