Prayers of the Floating Bubble

I had to type in a couple passwords before logging in once again. It has been 3 months since I’ve written what my brain has stored; there has been a lot of input but not much output. My prayers have scratched the surface of my bubble – I want it to pop; it’s floating in the air and it’s transparent- I hope I haven’t been hiding from God.

I slept and woke up (I’ll interject like this at times to continue the narration of my previous story). The pig felt a cool breeze flowing in and through his snout; as he inhaled his eyes opened. It was going to be a good day. His abs crunched and his left oblique hit the dirt. He rolled into an upright and mobile position from the momentum of the minor downhill angle. In his first step he caved his foot into a mango seed- his squeal sent him flying down the hill and back into the alert of being prey and predator.

The modeling industry makes me feel like prey and predator. I’m the prey of clients who don’t think I should be the attention of their images and I’m the predator of beauty everywhere I go. I didn’t think I’d sign with another agency in LA, but through a referral I’m now with LA Models. August hit hard – I had a lot of castings, but unfortunately none came to pass. Commercial auditions were on the horizon but the sunset had dawned on my chances too early.

A kid will continue to blow bubbles until the entire container is empty. Each breath is a different strength than the one before and the notes that it blows is a different shape than the one before. I have no control where my bubble will go, but in the fun of it, I will make it rise before it falls and try to chase after it with the swing of my hand. I want it to pop, Lord, I want it to pop.

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