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Writer's pictureDahnelle Dior

How to be Bad?


How to be bad. How to be bad! How to be bad? I am sitting on a zoom writing workshop staring listlessly at our prompt and I can literally hear the clock ticking. Like seriously everything is so invasively algorithmically quiet these days how is it that I live in a house that literally has a ticking clock? It harasses me with it's audability as it prats noisily on about the passing of time.


So rude.


I have been bullied by time for as long as I could remember. I've been running out of time since I started. Who knows why this began. Me knowing the finiteness of it all. So I have limited my grief, my pain, my sorrow, my down time to strikes on the clock in order to get up and get on with it all, before the clock runs out? The endless 24, 7,365 countdown has me manic. Whirling through my days out of breathe living in the corset of time.


I need to breathe.


How to be bad....Right!! The prompt the prompt the prompt. I look up at the screen an endless stream of women all heads down writing, writing,writing. I can feel the passion, the intensity, the earnest-ness streaming through the screen pressing on my ineptness. Prisoner Prisoner why can't I get you off my mind off my mind...Myley Cyrus croons in my head what a sexy ditty. Now that's a girl that knows how to be bad.


I look across at my neatly made bed and think how I long to be in it. Whyyyyyy did I sign up for a workshop on a Saturday why did I think this was a good idea??? The only day in my otherwise regimented week of 5:45am wake up meditate, pray, work out, kids, work, cook, coach cycle...to sleep in.


How to be bad?


You wanted to be a good person who follows through, you wanted to connect.


What?


"That's why you are in this class".


Oh, right. Right! Of course my endless quest for self im -prove I'm good enough ... that autopilots my days.


My son stirs next to me. Wow, I almost forgot he was there. My beautiful brilliant anxiety ridden son. I had tried to ignore the storm building behind his eyes as I rushed to get ready. I didn't have time for a full blown session of coaching him as I whirled through the house patting and prepping everything to be fine as I closeted myself away ...to be good and write. But as usual I could not resist him so I tended to him as I washed and dressed and set up my computer and bid him sit. At least I could lay my hands of comfort on him as I improved and gooded myself.


Aww he is writing also... good.


How to be bad?


I need to breathe.


Dammmmm this prompt.


Come on focus Dahn.


I look down at my blank paper...How to be bad? Bad? What the natural fuuuuckkkk!! Everything in me strives, stretches arches to be good! To be the change, To stand in the light, to be eco and conscious and kind and loving and joyful and welll Fuckin GOOD!!!!


I think my head will explode. I force myself to write anything anything I'll take anything you got Dahn....


"She woke up and didn't stir, although she knew the time was ticking. She could hear the house stirring and all the things happening beyond the door. Deadlines and emails and calls to make and places to be. Her eyes fluttered a tad bit and she played with stretching a minute as she stretched her body. In fact it's a stealthy trick only she knew...how to bend time. Okay maybe not all of time but definitely how to stretch a minute and lay in the luxury of 60 seconds like it was an hour. She also just knew they would wait. She was at that time in her life where they waited. She had jumped through all of the hoops, accomplished all of the things, picked up all the shit, ate all the crow...written all of the genius acted all of the statues she was the "it girl" now. She had done the thing. She turned over yawned and closed her beautiful good enough

eyes ..and let them wait."


What a bad bad girl.



xx

Dahn


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