Monthly Archives: November 2013

the other night i went on a coffee run for my boyfriend and i at midnight, and it was the first rain of the season, and i began to think about how the roads are dangerous during the first rainfall. and that naturally led me to think my car was wearing ice skates and the ground was the ice. and i’m poor at ice skating and i’m always terrified of falling and so that’s what i was afraid of, my car slipping and veering out of control. but then that fear didn’t last long because i began to think how windshield wipers are a metronome and how rain will always remind me of santa cruz. rain brings me back to the first time i bought rain boots and jumped in a puddle and realized i was invincible. and then i moved on from that thought, and i looked at the ground and saw the way the street lights reflected onto the wet road. there were streaks of red and green with smudges of yellow here and there. it looked like dripping paint. it reminded me of pollock’s work. and i began to think that if rain was the paintbrush, the pavement was the canvas. and that i was part of a watercolor painting. that i was part of a painting. yes, that. that i am part of art.


i received this in my inbox on tumblr today:

“Everyone has a universe inside their mind that no one else will ever be able to truly understand. In a sense, you give the Milky Way on this site. A little preview of something much greater, a magnificent, vast, never ending universe. Maybe you don’t agree, but you should at least write one book before your time here on earth is up. You seem to be in love with all the little things about your boyfriend and I admire that. You are a gem. Know that.”

this is one of the most beautiful things i’ve read in a while. i haven’t cried on the outside but i’m completely melted on the inside. this was much needed for me today. i think words like these are much needed for everybody, all the time. i know i’m not just talking for myself, but life gets a little hard you know. and others call this generation the entitled ones, the ones who are known for being petty and poorly opinionated. but i think there’s so much more to humans than the evolution of the problems we have had to deal with. i think we are the generation we are now because the rise of technology has allowed to explore our inner selves more, to become more reflective, more aware, rather than focusing on external circumstances. we can now reach internally. we can now see ourselves under a magnifying glass.  this is sort of a tangent but it’s relevant, i promise. i think we all forget who we are sometimes. and when life gets sort of stressful, and then it gets really stressful, my response is to hold it all in, to drink it away, to sleep it away, to keep myself from anyone that could be exposed to my negative energy. that’s just how i am, and i know that by holding in my negative energy, i am still staying within my negative energy, but that’s the best i know how to cope as of right now. in these moments of stress, i forget myself, i lose sight of the future, and i am extremely uninspired, unmotivated, and somewhat upset with myself. i know these moments aren’t permanent, and i know these moments don’t define me, but they do define how i approach the future. moments like these swallow my heart and leave a space. but then someone like this comes around, unasked, completely by surprise, with words about you, and dedicated to you, that fill that heart with a warm space again. thank you for these inspiring words, i have taken them deeply to heart :’) and i am sending back all the love from california to you. there is something magical about writing letters to strangers online. i think it’s like the verbal form of heartbeats. and when we recognize each other’s heartbeats, we create a bridge, and an invisible string becomes conscious. and i think that’s beautiful. we are always uncovering secrets.

maybe we will always be playing hide and seek with each other. maybe childhood never ends, but is found in metaphors all around us if we look and listen closely. maybe that’s what hide and seek is all about – finding others when they don’t want to be found.

this was much much much needed. i really can’t thank you enough. you deserve the best weekend ever and the best 2014 and the best everything.

do you ever start to read someone’s writing and you can feel their emotion rush right through you in the first sentence?. and you think it’s just you, but it’s really their emotions taking over. and then you’re sad over their sadness. and it all becomes clear what kind of life they’ve been living, even if you may not know the details. somehow they’ve become a friend. like a faraway penpal. like someone you want to take care of. and you want to write to them, “i get you. the loneliness is hard. some people have lived with loneliness their whole life, they don’t have a home. i don’t know you but i can and will and do love you. and those words are cliche, but there is nothing else that can encompass what i’m trying to say. and i hope one day the world appears sunny to you on a dark day. someone once told me that a stranger’s kindness is sometimes the most important, it rearranges our reality, so i hope this sparks a light in your heart that you’ve made a cave. i hope this turns your heart into a home.”

i’m most content when it’s too early or it’s too late, when everybody is asleep and the world starts to quiet down. 3am. 6am. the hours of insomnia are surprisingly the ones i feel most peaceful. i love the beginning of wakefulness. it’s silent, blank. fresh. a mix between the dream world and the real world. a sort of hypnosis. but then i start to wake up, really wake up. and the real world hits, and the thoughts hit, and the emotions hit. and sometimes they’re nice, but other times they’re not. and when they’re not, sometimes they become so unbearable i just regress into a child and want to cry, but we all know grown ups don’t cry in public. and growns up don’t cry at work. and grown ups don’t cry in the middle of a joke. growns ups cover it with a few cups of coffee in the day and a glass of wine come evening. but i am not a grown up, i can’t even try. i am a little kid. i am a little kid that wants to hide under a mountain of blankets and maybe read poetry with a book light or call her best friend and talk about that time we were fifteen. and i want to read fairytales and have fairytales read to me. i want to sleep in and drink soup before the summer heat sets in. i want to take life slowly. is that too much to ask?

(june 11 2013)

I have to write. I have to know I’m still all there so that I’m not somewhere else where I can’t be retrieved. I have to write but I wouldn’t have to if I was by your side. You see, writing and being with you have similar effects and roles in my life. When I am with you, I don’t feel the need to write, because every moment is captured so perfectly in-between the moment before and when we do hug and accidentally brush our cheeks against each other’s. And there aren’t any words that could capture the way we play off of each other’s metaphors without ever touching the real subject.

They say things lose their meaning when spoken too much about, and that is something I am much too familiar with, but your presence in my life only seems to grow stronger. I’m so restless with my love for you. Every time I try to describe you, I am left breathless. And maybe that’s what love is all about. Maybe love is the stumble in my words. Maybe you are unable to be put into words. This was something I learned long ago, but I have taken up the challenge to write you, because if I cannot be with you and I cannot see you again, these words are all I have. And all these words will be dedicated to you whether or not you see them, because in a way, you already know.

(june 12 2013)

we were sprawled out on her bed, me positioned in an odd manner as always but with my head gently resting on her back. and i remember looking at the slivers of light peering through her window blinds and thinking about how it’s much too early to be laughing nonstop at eight in the morning. and then i sunk into her skin and bones and i thought about how this is so picture perfect, being with her, how we are faced against each other but there is something so beautiful about this moment. i think to myself, there are some moments that are so beautiful you cannot even fathom being able to capture it so innocently and fully with another. and that’s when she says, “i wish there was someone home so they could take a photo of us.” and i say, me too, me too, and i glorify at the fact that she is such a mind reader, that we both are of each other. we are somehow always on the same wavelength, her always playing a song that i was just thinking of or escalates my mood. the way we exchange stories is so beautiful, constantly laughing and unintentionally inserting mini-stories in our big story. we tell the stories with the same voice because it roots from the similarities in our culture. we’re always so attentive to each other that it feels as if we are no longer just a friendship, because there’s a magical element to our relationship and i can’t quite pinpoint it. she told me, “the first time i met you and looked into your eyes, i realized you read people just like i do and that we perceive the world in similar fashions.” we do. we do so much that we sync so easily when we’re together, and it still amazes me the way we are able to do that. and my friendship with her is one of a kind. best friend, i tell her, you are one of my best friends. and then we do what we always do, we lock eye contact and we squeal and shake our little fists at how grateful we are to have met each other. until next time, my love, until next time. i’m always missin’ you the same way i miss my best friend from high school. i’m always missin’ you.

i like to do things my way. that’s just how it is. my mom says i’m loud-mouthed and that if my dad can’t terrify me, then no one can and nothing can. maybe i have no ounce of care for certainty or stability because i am not afraid of falling. once i was at a rave and i said i didn’t have a rave name, someone said, “your name is crash. because you fall beautifully.” and in the face of adversity, do i grow a backbone or do i falter? i think i’m a little bit of both. i think that’s what makes me so impulsive but so centered, i’m too much of everything and never in the middle. but i wouldn’t want to be anybody else but me, because i couldn’t be anybody but this. i would dislike so much to be unaffected by what’s happened to me. i am so affected by fallen relationships with boys, what people have said, my relationships with my parents, what has and hasn’t happened, that i carry all these stories with me. they’ve been engraved into my skin. i’m so addicted to life, to meaning, to love. and my god, i never knew how right my mom could be with that statement.