Until Next We Meet…

It is the fate of most writers, I think, to live a double life, to balance the responsibilities of Real Life with the dreams of Writer Life. Unfortunately for this writer, the Real Life Responsibilities demand extra attention and the dreams of Writer Life are just that…dreams. At least for now.

Which brings me to this post: I’ll be taking a brief hiatus from WordPress for a few months. I have a deadline of sorts to meet in my Real Life and it’s been harder than I anticipated to balance everything.

I don’t plan to be absent completely; I’ll pop in every now and then to read and comment on your blogs, but I won’t be posting any new writing for the time being. I’ll still be on Twitter—the inner fangirl needs a place to, well, fangirl—and Instagram, where I’ll be sharing lots of old poetry and occasional snaps of Real Life. I plan to end my hiatus in December, just in time for the holidays!

I wish you all happy reading, happy writing, and happy living. Until next we meet…

 

[Poetry] The Choice

On the bathroom floor,
Glass shard in hand,
It catches the light,
Is this the end?

And the tears, they
Bounce off the glass.
Shutting my eyes, I’ll
Just make this fast.

[Writer’s Quote Wednesday] For The Young Who Want To

Talent is what they say
you have after the novel
is published and favorably
reviewed. Beforehand what
you have is a tedious
delusion, a hobby like knitting.

Work is what you have done
after the play is produced
and the audience claps.
Before that friends keep asking
when you are planning to go
out and get a job.

The One Where I Start Again

You: You’re always disappearing from this blog, you know that?

Me: *sigh* I know…

You: I understand you have responsibilities—

Me: This is going to be a lecture, isn’t it?

You: And that Life can be hard sometimes—

Me: Yup, definitely a lecture.

[Poetry] A Postcard From The Other Side

10 o’clock on a New York night,
Surrounded by fairytales and city lights,
I hope this postcard finds you well—
Me? Well, things are finally feeling right.

I watched that musical we wanted to see
Of witches and magic and defying gravity,
You were right, I cried and loved it so—
And in that moment, I set you free.

In the stars, our story will always shine,
A glimpse of all that is rare and divine,
But time moves on and so must I—
Thank you, my love, for being mine.

© Jade M. Wong 2017

The Rule of Eleven (aka The Blue Sky Tag)

A shoutout to Tina at Written in Geek for giving my muse and I a break from writing. I can’t even remember when my last tag post was, which goes to show how long it’s been.

1) What frightens you the most?

As quoted from Sailboats & Bubble Tea (aka the Entertainer Blogger Award): Bugs with more than 4 legs. Bugs with no legs at all. BUGS. 

2) Coffee or tea?

Tea!

[Flash Fiction] Light

When she was born, much too early and wrapped in pink, a tiny teddy bear the color of chocolate followed her home.

A reminder that she was a fighter from the beginning.

When she was thirteen, an acne-riddled girl with her first broken heart, a chubby tan teddy bear waited for her on her bed.

A reminder that she was always loved.

[Poetry] A Toast

Here’s to Cupid aiming his arrows accurately
To lost love being found.
Here’s to being nice (and a little naughty!)
For Santa all year ‘round.

Here’s to friendships, stretched thin from wear
Built up like a house of cards.
Here’s to friendships, triple knotted with care,
Built to last when things get hard.

Here’s to laughing on the couch with a glass of wine
To empty tissue boxes and sad love songs.
Here’s to enjoying the little moments of frozen time
To blasting the music and singing along.

Re-Introducing Me

For years, I’ve hidden behind the pseudonym of Jade M. Wong and the profile picture of an anime girl. I’ll still be using the pseudonym, but I’m ready to stop hiding.

To my blogging friends, my readers, and the whole wide world, are you listening? Can you see me? I’m re-introducing myself.

[Short Story] The Halfway Point

The last thing he remembered was the crash.

Metal colliding into metal.

Glass shattering into his skin.

High-pitched ringing in his ears mixed with screams.

The sticky sap of his blood as it dripped down his cheek.