Monera Mason is a mischief-maker.  Her work includes: starting questionable cults with notorious software gurus, writing abstract fiction, catalyzing shenanigans which she deploys on unsuspecting bystanders in the City of Neon. 

Postmortem Balancing Act

When you find yourself time-traveling to the beginning of something it can leave you with a sense of nostalgia.  Yearning for a future that never will be, and a person who never was.  These 200 words are the counterpoint to the times that were good.  I know that we will get precisely here again in the narrative, but first, we will be there--happy and lovesick. 

Must there be lessons in the retelling?  The moralizing mother who says well, of course, this went sour?  I don't want her presence in the work I'm writing. Stories should be able to stand on their own two wobbly legs, and breathe from the air that was charged, for that is how they were lived.  

These 200 words that I inherited second-hand from the Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck are my way to give such lessons space far from novel writing. Processing that lets me move onto this next adventure.  

I love the adventure that I am on, currently.  

Early mornings of writing in the quiet bedroom that housed my growing. I bought the bed I am sleeping in when I was a teen because I was that obsessed with Cherrywood and the rich leathers that were once the Bombay Company.  I wanted my whole world to look like a smoking library with globes of scotch glasses.  At 16, I knew I was a Gellhorn in training with a lot of Nin sprinkled in.  

Productivity has been my friend, these days.  Shorts are getting written, words in prose seem lyrical, and opportunities are ever growing.  Also, I am taking a stand that means connecting with those who want to work.  I find myself among the driven who are staking the ground to raise pavillions where art and life can live.  

It is a stark contrast to the smoke and mirrors where I have lived in the last year. The stress of propping up that-which-was-not-real took a toll on my psyche.  I suppose that is why he could stay and I couldn't bear it. I am not the girl who deals in halves and I never will be. 

I am grateful for the many useful lessons that I learned in the last year. These are just a few. 
How to:
    reconnect with people who love me
    stand up for myself even to people who I admired
    listen to gut instinct
    spot an addict, merely someone who is in trouble needing help
    avoid bad actors because they always ruin good intentions
    take moments for me
    invest in self-care when feeling low
    cultivate intellectual distance
    not wait for others
    not give a fuck
    ask to be paid for my work
    trust my value for I am rare
    have compassion from afar

Here are Seven Words for the Unmaking

Misreading Tarot