it is not your fault,
I am sorry they shut you out.
I am thankful for your heart,
like a door ajar.
You are worthy of
You are not an afterthought,
a late night phone call;
you are my first thought
in every sense.
People make mistakes all the time. My friend looked up the wrong times for the movie. The popcorn people gave me a box of Pretz instead of the POCKY I requested. I didn’t even realize until the third stick, believing until then that the chocolatey bit had broken off in the packet. Not the worst thing that could happen, but a close second.
Thoughts on Jason Bourne the movie? Older, silverfox Matt Damon with the muscles is very attractive. Alicia Vix is also very attractive. I’m glad they didn’t hook up in the end- would’ve been too predictable.
Before the movie, we went to MacDonald’s. You either eat a salad, or you go all out at MacDonald’s.
“Dinner with a view”, he said. We sat on a platform, watching people line up for their orders.
“You want to hook up with him, don’t you?” he jested, pointing to a very saggy Tommy Lee Jones. I love the feeling when the spirit of laughter is held in the air. Tingly. Like it could all come crashing down.
You again. I’m blind to the flipping cars on screen. I’m fighting off your hands at my thighs. We’re sitting on the porch and it’s night time- our playground. You’re telling me about your heritage, where your dad comes from or something of the sort. It’s that dark eyed look I remember. And then I let it go, returning my attention to the billion dollar set being destroyed.
Oh WordPress how I’ve missed you! I miss the mindless scrolling through my feed, previewing thought-catalog posts, surveying the newest variations in stories of love and love lost. But I miss the catalogue of lives the most: passing thoughts, poetic one-liners, moments of self-discovery. I also enjoy ironic posts: the writer sets up a journey that ends where it begins. Round-about narratives are kind of sad and funny at the same time.
Since I’ve been gone, I’ve found two silver strands sprouting from my head. I’m twenty and ageing fast. Don’t ask me how I am, because that’s boring and unoriginal. Atop of that, I’m burdened with the responsibility of being selective in my answer, honest, creative even. That’s a loaded question. It’s the opener to the brief conversation in line for coffee, or when I see a friend I’ve been meaning to text but haven’t gotten round to. If you really want to know, let’s be serious and do it well.
I’ve been all sorts of good, fine, okay. Each day has it’s peaks and troughs. Some days, I see beauty everywhere: the golden glow of the five-o-clock sun (my favourite time of day here), people laying out on the grass, crooning mothers, reflective windows, Professor Lee’s patience. Other days I waste away feeling like a shell of a person. Perhaps I was coasting before I bumped into you. Perhaps the gym and shower have taken their turns to ruin and revive me. Perhaps today I have no strong feelings about anything to report, which I think is sad. I still don’t have a plan for my next few years in college… or the rest of my life and sometimes I’m okay with that. Maybe you’ve caught me on days when I’m not. Worst of all, I probably haven’t thought about how I generally feel; there are too many things to consider.
I almost don’t remember how the year began; every month marks a transition, every season its own personality. Stories within stories within stories. It’s worse that the school year is misaligned with the calendar year. But let’s not rehash the details right now. I’m more excited about what’s to come: Beats by Dr. Dre. I’m motivated to make music again! I’m going to write again! I’m going to read during the Spring Break and I’m going to spend time doing the things that make me excited to be alive- things that make me want to learn and seek out the world.
Is the greatest lie I have ever heard.
I feel silly (stupid) when you joke
and I don’t feel like joking.
I wish I were more mature,
whatever that means.
Tell me something real.
The ceiling moves into the wall
the way clouds do the sky.
You make me sick
then you make me cry.
I think maybe I’ll live in lacy underwear
and on chocolate until we stop spinning.
‘Feelings linger where thoughts do not’ (Kathleen Taylor). Even if you say you don’t care, make up your mind to move on, your heart cannot be separated from the person it is entangled to. When you’ve grown up with someone and you’ve spent a great deal of time with them, your feelings won’t let them go. But what I fear now is that there will be no pain of separation when I leave my sister for university.
I didn’t care when my brother left because nothing changed; we had grown apart long ago. My parents don’t speak to me much and I don’t mind, because it’s normal, I’m used to it, it doesn’t hurt. All this time, I’ve sworn to myself that I’d never let this happen with my children. But it’s been happening with my very own sister and I hadn’t realized it until now. When I go, will there not be a difference? I’m barely home because for years I’ve chosen my friends over my sister. Whilst she was at home with no one to play with, I’d be sleeping over at someone’s house.
She once wrote me an email back in 2009 saying:
YOU ARE SO MEAN YOU ALWAYS COME TO PEOPLES HOUSES WITHOUT TELLING ME. DO I HAVE TO BE BY MYSELF WITH ONLY EKA (my helper at the time) WHEN YOU ARE NOT HERE!? (EVERYDAY, ALMOST -.-)
I responded with a belligerent email because I thought she didn’t have a right to be mad at me. She did though, and I’d be happier if she still was. Now that she’s not mad, she doesn’t mind. That is the worst thing. We are used to not being around each other. We are used to distance and she is used to being lonely. Now, I have a week and the rest of my life to make up for it.
Sometimes I miss people and I like the feeling. I mean, I hate it but I don’t want it to go away. Oh the sweet torture- it means you’ve met someone worth missing. Do you miss loving someone or having someone to love? Maybe it’s not the person themselves you miss, but the way they made you feel. There’s romance in that.