1 2 3 Wake Up!


How do you wake yourself up from a nightmare? If there is a way to do it, I wish I had known about it a week ago, when I tried to find a way out of a dreadful loop where a nightmare tapped into my deepest grief and drowned me in a sea of sorrow.

It was the first Thursday without Banana Fish, too soon after the dead of Ash. In my dream, I wasn’t part of the events. Rather, I was following Eiji, looking at everything from his point of view, never able to see his face but experiencing, first hand, everything he was feeling.

I was there when Ibe showed up to be with Eiji as he heard the news from a phone call with Max. I felt the desolation that enveloped Eiji while he tried unsuccessfully to process the death of his best friend, and finally, the spark of hope fueled by determination that prompted him to return to New York, even in his poor state of health. My throat was in a knot with suppressed cries, knowing Ash was dead but watching Eiji holding on that spark of hope, similar to what he felt that time, when the news reported the death of Ash while in police custody. He would not completely accept Ash’s death until he saw it with his own eyes.

Ii was heartbreaking to hear Eiji, made phone calls while holding back tears, begging Max, Jenkins and Charlie to do everything they could not to bury Ash until he got there.

While travelling, people would try to make conversation with Eiji but He was ignoring everything, not being rude, just not being there at all. He fell into a stupor, acting mechanically all the way through New York, his composure finally shattered when Sing, followed by Alex, Bones, and Kong showed up to pick him up at the airport.

They cried together and hugged each other in those first moments, but when Sing faced up to him and assumed responsibility for his brother’s actions, in typical fashion, Eiji warmly embraced Sing, seeking to relieve him from such tormenting guilt. He was deeply concerned about Sing crumbling at his feet asking for forgiveness feeling responsible for what Lao had done. It was this determination to help his younger friend that made Eiji act more subdued and collected on his way to the morgue where Charlie, Jenkins, and Max waited.

To this day, I still cry when I remember the angst Eiji felt while looking at Ash’s body laying down on a cold and bare stainless steel slab, with nothing on him but a thin sheet of cloth over his body. Eiji was overlooking Ash in pretty much the same way Ash cried over him during the midnight hospital visit where they saw each other last. I felt Eiji’s desolation and deep sorrow as he sobbed uncontrollably with his face buried in his hands. I was right behind him, unable to do anything. I was feeling such grief, it truly was a torment, and I could not wake up. I remember trying to look around wanting to leave, but I couldn’t move. I was forced to look at this scene on a loop over what seem like hours.

Finally, I woke up with a start setting up on my bed, panting. There was this vast feeling of desolate sorrow which did not dissipate quickly, I still have much of its memory and if I’m not actively trying to suppress it, It all comes back like the time I read Garden of Light and could not process the seven years Eiji had suffered through it.

I didn’t think I would ever tell this story, I’m glad you read it through, Thank you.  Hopefully now I will have closure on how Eiji managed to survive after his soulmate’s departure.


Story and illustration by M. Morgan






Good, glorious morning to all of you today!!

Look what I found, a giant Sunflower at my daughter’s school where the kindergarden class has a small garden.  

It occurred to me that, if you look closely,  the center has a ton of tiny, itty, bitty little flowers, (Yes, they are all individual flowers making a larger one) that look so beautiful on their own. Likewise,  together they also make up a very pretty blossom. 

Sometimes, we get lost in the shape of our families, our friends. We embed ourselves in everyone else’s life and it may be fun and fulfilling as well, but sometimes however, that is not the case. We feel like Outsiders, or not quite part of them. Don’t you ever forget that you have your own beauty, your own life. And in itself and apart from everyone around you, it is fun, it, is fulfilling as well. 

Today, give yourself a chance to experience your own story and then come back and tell me what you did for yourself that you’ve been neglecting for a while. Share with us something that is important to you.

Random Quiet Recognition

 Good morning everyone! This is Sunday’s flower of the Day but I’m going to leave it here for today because I think it’s a great challenge for all of us to work with during the week.  Come back and tell me your story!

Today, I challenge you to give a random compliment to someone you see everyday but might not notice much. 

One of my friends at work,  a few years ago,  was the custodian. She used to work through the very early hours of the morning making sure the floors were shiny and Polished and nobody would notice. She mentioned this one day and from then on I made a point to notice whether the floors were done or not and immediately seek her out to thank her for the beautiful floors she had for us. You could see a little spark in her eyes and a little bounce to her steps after she would give me a heartfelt thank you for noticing. 

Make someone’s day today!

My Own Cello



Dear Diary,
Another day goes by and my heart still yearns for the tender touch of acceptance. I heard its sorrowful sound and was powerless to sooth its cry. I was called upon its dark nature to immerse my senses in its passionate expression, yet, a tone of powerful calm held my faculties with blissful attention.

Today I almost touched it. I nearly held a cello in my arms, but I was afraid to disturb its perfect image in my mind with a note of reality that might have destroyed our unspoken mutual expectations. The grand cello I love plays for me with perfect clarity and I listen, I appreciate, I dream.

I long to wield an instrument that could sing through mournful sounds with peaceful and reassuring notes that become a pleasant melody. I want to be the one who brings an unexpected baritone hero out of the background of a bass ensemble that is mostly unnoticed, but instead, I listen, I appreciate, I dream.

Tomorrow perhaps, I will have the courage to approach it, to introduce myself, to surrender my fears in its unconditional acceptance of my desires; but in turn, I will have to detach myself from the perfect balance between its current master and their melodic relationship that captivates my attention.

Today, today I long for my own cello.


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Daily Prompt:

Strike a Chord
Do you play an instrument? Is there a musical instrument whose sound you find particularly pleasing? Tell us a story about your experience or relationship with an instrument of your choice.


Hidden in Plain Sight


Scenes like this are around us every day in color, none the less, but our busy lives keep our attention split into what seems like a thousand different tasks. It is difficult to appreciate simple beauty since many times we prefer to willingly escape into that happy place in our minds where everything goes our way.  Today, take a moment to find an everyday object or scene you frequently pass by without a second look. Carry its beauty with you, a reminder that reality can be comforting in its simplicity.



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Sigh! . . . No Words.


If you are a tea drinker, you know the struggle. Day after day, cup after cup, we keep forgetting about our perfect cup of tea which we anticipate with great eagerness. Waiting those two minutes for the perfect green cup of tea, or 4 minutes for  Earl Gray is never an easy thing to do. Something always calls out attention and we end up coming back to get a cold and forgotten cup of bitter fluid that doesn’t resemble what we expected.

I have used timers before, but when the time is up, I rush back to pour tea all over the place outside the cup because obviously, I was engaged in something important that couldn’t wait two minutes earlier. Then, I have to wait for the tea to cool off a bit in order to preserve the left over taste buds I have; their relatives gloriously burned alive when I decided not to risk drinking cold tea. . . yep. I have done that.


This image is typical of what greets my return nowadays. I’m warming up to it now. Life tends to be much more pleasant when you just resign and suffer in comfort. I take a drink of cold tea and use the bitterness to temper my solitude. The ensuing darkness that envelops my thoughts shortly thereafter is familiar and strangely comforting. I die little deaths of disappointment every day and it helps my psyche wake up and appreciate a future where a warm cup of tea can actually happen.

Am I all alone in this world? Is there anyone out there who has achieved drinking a cup of hot tea on a regular basis? Is there hope?



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Fragrance, Fetor . . . Same Difference.

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How good is your sense of smell? If it isn’t that great like mine, what has been the funniest instance when you mistook a hideous smell for that of a pleasant one? I would love to be able to appreciate fragrant smells more completely but I can’t tell you the many times I thought night blossoming flowers smelled like cat pee or a delicious beef stew that smells just like dog food to me. Also, I cringe to the times I followed the smell of freshly made quesadillas to the location of my beautiful daughter’s freshly tossed-in-the-closet shoes (eeeek!).

On the up side, I can keep unpleasant odors away very easily by breathing through my mouth and not having lingering effects afterward. However on the downside, when one of those hideous smells tricks its way into my nose, I can’t get rid of it for a long period of time. Once I thought my husband was warming up tortillas only to find out smoke from my neighbor’s cigarettes was blowing through the window. I ended up smelling cigarette smoke for days! No kidding. I almost had an anxiety attack when my trusty google medical search told me I probably had a brain tumor.

There are times when I definitely don’t trust what I smell. When the source is dubious, I quickly switch to breathing through my mouth. It may sound weird, but it works just fine for me.



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Sun Kissed Harmony in Nature


I’ve always had trouble photographing white flowers. I can’t quite capture the details on petals to make their edges stand out. In my pictures, petals just run off into the next petal without distinction. Never the less, I bring you this picture because at the park, on that day, there was not a single white rose unblemished by the heat of the sun. Although the weather here has been brutal, sun kissed flowers displayed their newly acquired accents in a regal manner. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we just embraced our flaws and displayed them as part of who we are? As part of the cumulation of struggles and triumphs that make up our own little kind of wonderful?  Today, dare yourself to go out and be wondrous!



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Colors in Distorsion


Can you appreciate sensory deprivation? I remember the faded and muffled sounds in the water, distant and lulling when as a child, I used to take a deep breath and stay underwater for as long as I could; just there, enjoying the pleasant, relative silence.

When I first published this picture, people comented how at first they thought it was a painting. I suppose it does have somewhat of an Impresionist style. I love the different shades of blue reflected at the bottom of the pool, giving my daughter’s bathing suit a deeper contrast. The unusual pose is due to her enamorement of the peace and quiet she feels when she rests at the bottom of the pool (shallow end, for my own peace of mind). She says it is relaxing.

What gives you such a sense of melodic silence?


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