bakubreath

I wrote this two years ago and my sister decided to bring it to my attention again recently.  It's something I wrote out of observation and on the fly.  It's not a beautiful, clean essay . . . but it seems that others have really liked it.  So without further ado-- Coming back around Depression isn't fun. It's like trying to spawn upstream only to find out that you're not a fish. Of course once you realize this (that you are not a fish), you have established something is wrong and that you need to change what you perceive is going on around you. How this is done depends on the person. My feeling is, I thought my way into it, then I can thin

I am a peanut. I am shelled, Roasted,  Salted, And sweetened with honey. I am in brittle, making it lumpy and full of goodness. I am that certain something in Thai sauce. I am in PB&J. I am candied or covered in caramel. I am in a cookie. I am served with Cajun spices or on top of ice cream. I roll under the desk and am forgotten. But you-- You are a cashew. You are mixed with spinach and baked over salmon with garlic. You are served at dinner parties with cocktails. You are played with by children,              Pretending they have hooks. But there is something we have in common. Something we both share. For we both ar