this year, i want to thank you for loving me at my very worst. thank you for all the home-cooked meals and fresh-baked goods. thank you for making the effort to keep in touch, even when we're miles apart. thank you for choosing to have me in your life, for the long nights, filling my life with laughter, for making my fights yours, being there for the tears, without judgment. i'm thankful that ya'll are in good health, and for allowing me to offer strength, when you've needed it most. thank you for always providing me with a travel buddy, when this city becomes too much. thank you for being my family, the siblings i never had, and for taking the time to read the words i'm always writing, my letters to you.
and i'm so thankful that for another year, i had you all in my life. and i pray, i will see another full year with all of you.
this year, i'm working on accepting those things for which i cannot change, working on accepting the choices of others, and learning that i can't fight to keep myself in your life, that i shouldn't have to fight for that. but know this, if you ever decide you need me, i guess i'll always be here.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Sunday, November 23, 2014
"Why do you still read my blog?"
I knew I wasn't going to receive an answer. Not a tangible one anyway. Somewhere over the course of the past year, you'd decided we were no longer going to even politely acknowledge each other. But there you were, every other week, showing up in my Google Analytics statistics. You were the only one I could track on that thing.
"I think he still reads my blog. I don't understand why. He won't even acknowledge my presence."
"How do you know?"
"I track it. But maybe it's not him. Maybe someone else who works at the NRA really likes it."
I probably shouldn't have asked you about it. You've stopped coming by. Perhaps that's for the best. Is it weird though. That a part of me was comforted by the fact that, maybe, you still cared. Even though you refused to let anyone know that.
But. Here we are. Of my own doing.
I knew I wasn't going to receive an answer. Not a tangible one anyway. Somewhere over the course of the past year, you'd decided we were no longer going to even politely acknowledge each other. But there you were, every other week, showing up in my Google Analytics statistics. You were the only one I could track on that thing.
"I think he still reads my blog. I don't understand why. He won't even acknowledge my presence."
"How do you know?"
"I track it. But maybe it's not him. Maybe someone else who works at the NRA really likes it."
I probably shouldn't have asked you about it. You've stopped coming by. Perhaps that's for the best. Is it weird though. That a part of me was comforted by the fact that, maybe, you still cared. Even though you refused to let anyone know that.
But. Here we are. Of my own doing.
Monday, October 6, 2014
Hello Thirty: Some Parting Words
On the eve of my thirtieth birthday, and I'm not where I thought I would be at this moment in my life. I didn't think that I would've spent a better part of my twenties as a waitress, a hostess, a bartender, an executive assistant. I didn't foresee how difficult my professional pursuits were going to be. And I certainly did not foresee that somehow time would become circular, and I would still love you as I did 16 years ago. With this said, goals and accomplishments shouldn't be measured against time or that of others. And sometimes, you'll say what you think, and you'll say how you feel, and it won't be received well. But I take nothing back. Maybe that's my biggest weakness.
Do everything in moderation, even things you love. Balance is vital. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're not capable of something, even your closest friends. But about them, they're the ones who got out of bed at 3 a.m. to drive into the city to pick me up because I was stranded, the ones who came over to sit with me when I couldn't stop crying, the ones who fed me when I was broke, the ones who didn't judge me for making out with some super unfortunate men, or for an array of other embarrassing moments, and for all of this, I wouldn't have survived my twenties without you.
Love your parents. Make time for them. Even when it's hard. Even when you have nothing to talk about. They're not going to be around forever. When given the choice between traveling or not. Always, go. Always. I promise, you will not regret this. Home will always be here.
For what it's worth, senza rimpianti.
On.
LOVE.
When I was 13 and going through those incredibly awkward years (that I'm sure I never entirely grew out of), my biggest fear was that no boy was ever going to like me, much less fall in love with me. Fast forward a decade and some later, and I learned the harder truth, sometimes love isn't enough. Just because you love someone, it doesn't necessarily mean that a relationship will work. It was like, of course, Life, thanks for that.
The thing about love is, it's so rare to find, that when you find someone you love, and they feel the same, you have to show them every single day. Relationships are work, and that's part of it. If you're one of the few to find this thing called love, why would you not care for it?
SELF-WORTH.
KNOW YOUR OWN WORTH. Because if you don't value yourself, no one else will. As important as loving someone else is, the person you're supposed to love first and foremost is yourself. Because no one else is going to do it for you. People will often treat you how you let them. If you allow someone to treat you with disrespect, they will continue to. If you allow someone to be hurtful to you, they will continue to. Because YOU allowed it. Sure, people shouldn't do shitty things and they shouldn't be shitty, but the truth is sometimes they just are.
HATING.
You won't always like everyone, and that's perfectly fine. You shouldn't. It's not natural. There's always going to be someone out there who's going to bother you or irritate you or get you worked up. And talking about it every once in awhile is fine, but do not let it consume you. Don't follow them on Instagram; take them off your Facebook Newsfeed if you're unfortunately already Friends. Don't waste your energy on them.
WANT.
You choose the life you want. Aside from death, you pretty much have a choice about everything else. So many people spend their time talking about how they want this or that, but because of their own circumstance, it's not possible, they'll say. But it's not circumstance, it's choice. If you want something enough, you will figure out how, you will make the sacrifices, and you will put in the time and work to make it happen. I live my life on a string of music festivals and flights out west. I don't have more money than you. I've just made a different choice.
The former years.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
"She's not even cute. I don't understand," she'd said, showing me a blurry photograph off Instagram.
"It's not about looks," I had said. There was nothing I could say that would make anything better.
I always used to say, it made me feel better when the last guy I was with moved on with someone who wasn't very fortunate looking. I could say, well at least I have that. And hopefully her personality would be terrible as well. That would be even better. But really, none of it matters, none of it really makes you feel any better because at the end of the day, they're with someone else.
I don't know what it's about. I don't know why we move on in the ways that we do, or why we "upgrade" or "downgrade" for lack of better phrases. All I know is, everything kind of works out the way it's supposed to, the way it has to. And some of the outcomes will be unpleasant, and we're not going to like it. Sometimes our greatest fears are realized.
But I don't know. Whatever happens after you were with someone, none of that discounts what you had while you were together. It's just, this is how it is now.
You make a series of decisions, and sometimes, this is where the story goes.
But your story's not over. It's just a hard bump in the road, you just have to get through. Work on yourself, don't mind others, and things will get better. I know this much.
"It's not about looks," I had said. There was nothing I could say that would make anything better.
I always used to say, it made me feel better when the last guy I was with moved on with someone who wasn't very fortunate looking. I could say, well at least I have that. And hopefully her personality would be terrible as well. That would be even better. But really, none of it matters, none of it really makes you feel any better because at the end of the day, they're with someone else.
I don't know what it's about. I don't know why we move on in the ways that we do, or why we "upgrade" or "downgrade" for lack of better phrases. All I know is, everything kind of works out the way it's supposed to, the way it has to. And some of the outcomes will be unpleasant, and we're not going to like it. Sometimes our greatest fears are realized.
But I don't know. Whatever happens after you were with someone, none of that discounts what you had while you were together. It's just, this is how it is now.
You make a series of decisions, and sometimes, this is where the story goes.
But your story's not over. It's just a hard bump in the road, you just have to get through. Work on yourself, don't mind others, and things will get better. I know this much.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Saturday, December 21, 2013
too much
What right do I have?
That's what usually makes everything feel null and void.
It's been over a year and I still feel it. I feel everything, and I don't know why.
You're interested in someone new. That's not supposed to be big news or even out of the ordinary. It's been a year, and I left you.
But somehow it is. Somehow it hits in the gut like an unexpected wave, and there's nowhere else to go.
You have to let the past go. You have to let it go. You have to.
Sometimes memories will replay in my mind like a bad film. A bad reel. Over and over. None of the good parts, just the bad ones. And I don't know why. I can't sleep on those nights.
Sometimes I miss you so much it hurts.
Sometimes I remember the way, the way you used to talk to me and the way you used to make me feel and how badly and how hard it all was.
"It's never supposed to be that hard," she'd said.
To be with someone and cry yourself to sleep over this or that.
It wasn't supposed to go that way.
It was so hard to leave you. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
How long is it going to take?
5 years maybe, she said.
Fuck that, I'd said.
You are such a good person. You've always had such a good heart. Why was that not enough?
And then there was everything else. Why would you ever lie? I couldn't get over it. I couldn't.
That's what usually makes everything feel null and void.
It's been over a year and I still feel it. I feel everything, and I don't know why.
You're interested in someone new. That's not supposed to be big news or even out of the ordinary. It's been a year, and I left you.
But somehow it is. Somehow it hits in the gut like an unexpected wave, and there's nowhere else to go.
You have to let the past go. You have to let it go. You have to.
Sometimes memories will replay in my mind like a bad film. A bad reel. Over and over. None of the good parts, just the bad ones. And I don't know why. I can't sleep on those nights.
Sometimes I miss you so much it hurts.
Sometimes I remember the way, the way you used to talk to me and the way you used to make me feel and how badly and how hard it all was.
"It's never supposed to be that hard," she'd said.
To be with someone and cry yourself to sleep over this or that.
It wasn't supposed to go that way.
It was so hard to leave you. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
How long is it going to take?
5 years maybe, she said.
Fuck that, I'd said.
You are such a good person. You've always had such a good heart. Why was that not enough?
And then there was everything else. Why would you ever lie? I couldn't get over it. I couldn't.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Old letters
"Not only is your birthday a special day for you, it is also a special day for me. I'm so thankful you were born, because you have made my life such a happier place."
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
When the rain falls
And the night falls down
Yea, you've got me here
In this humdrum town
At almost twenty-nine, I finally grew out of casual sex, learned how to light a lighter, and wear eyeliner. I learned that bro-code pretty much doesn't exist, that it's kind of necessary to note you're in a relationship on Facebook, that having trouble saying no only makes situations harder, and that online dating is a waste of time. I learned to appreciate the humor in awkward moments when guy friends think you're down for hooking-up, and, in getting fired from your job boxing pizzas. It was the year when I started gauging everything against forever. It was the year when I let you go. I had waited my entire life for someone to love me in that way, to that degree, and when you came around, I learned the hardest lesson, sometimes love just isn't enough. I faced it with a certain disbelief. Sometimes true stories are the hardest to comprehend because they can shake the reality you always felt you knew.
At almost twenty-nine, I stopped feeling like a failure. That's how it had felt, gauging accomplishments against time, against that of others, against these ideas I had had on what life was supposed to be like at certain intervals.
At almost twenty-nine, you came around again, in a way I hadn't seen since we were far younger. And I played with the idea of you, in that way. Maybe a decade was all we needed. But in reality, the thought of being with you, makes me feel like that 16 year old girl who first fell for you, and I'm not her anymore.
And for the first time in maybe ever, I don't mind getting older.
The former years.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
That autumn
On the eve of my twenty-ninth birthday and our ten year high school reunion, we were coping with decisions we’d made that got us here.
She said she wasn’t going to go. Maybe if she got her shit together, then she’d go. But otherwise, she wasn’t going to, wasn’t going to have the questions asked, questions for which she didn’t have answers. I said, but what did it matter?
But I knew what she meant. There were moments when I avoided social gatherings with people who weren’t close, those you don’t see often because I didn’t have an answer for their questions. So what are you doing these days?
My Facebook newsfeed made my life look like a string of vacations and forays into alcoholism. Whether that was a mirror of real life was left to be said, but perception is hard to change.
Something about milestones make us look back and reflect on how we got here. Some days, I would say, marriage was never going to happen, owning a home was never going to happen. But I'm inundated by these announcements on the daily, and some days, they make me feel like I'm failing.
But the latter was never an aspiration and the former was something out of my control.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about you, wondering if I’m a disappointment in your eyes, like how you were in mine for all those years. Are you still trying? Don’t get stuck there, you've been saying.
She said she wasn’t going to go. Maybe if she got her shit together, then she’d go. But otherwise, she wasn’t going to, wasn’t going to have the questions asked, questions for which she didn’t have answers. I said, but what did it matter?
But I knew what she meant. There were moments when I avoided social gatherings with people who weren’t close, those you don’t see often because I didn’t have an answer for their questions. So what are you doing these days?
My Facebook newsfeed made my life look like a string of vacations and forays into alcoholism. Whether that was a mirror of real life was left to be said, but perception is hard to change.
Something about milestones make us look back and reflect on how we got here. Some days, I would say, marriage was never going to happen, owning a home was never going to happen. But I'm inundated by these announcements on the daily, and some days, they make me feel like I'm failing.
But the latter was never an aspiration and the former was something out of my control.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about you, wondering if I’m a disappointment in your eyes, like how you were in mine for all those years. Are you still trying? Don’t get stuck there, you've been saying.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Monday, July 15, 2013
V: did u meet any new guys as of late
C: no one worth keeping
V: isn't that how it always goes
C: that's how it seems
J: i don't know why i still think about my ex..we broke up in Dec and she was totally not what I'm looking for
love.
C: no one worth keeping
V: isn't that how it always goes
C: that's how it seems
J: i don't know why i still think about my ex..we broke up in Dec and she was totally not what I'm looking for
i'm retarded though...
i'm a lil b*tch..i think non-stop about unnecessary crap
love.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
You Can Say Anything
If I could say anything....I would tell you that I love you, even when it didn't show.You know how I save everything? I should really, at least, get rid of the old photos and things you've said, that I saved on my phone long ago. Nowadays, there are days that go by where I'm not reminded of you. The other day though, my phone kept telling me iCloud was running out of storage, so I had to go back and delete insignificant things from my photo album. So, of course, I had a mini trip down memory lane, reminded of things you used to say, fights we used to have, how much you did love me in those moments, and how you used to make me feel, when things were good. It's so rare, you know, to find someone who will love you.
We were on the phone last night, updating each other about our lives. How we got here, at 28 years old, professionally and romantically far from where we thought we'd be at this age. "At 12, I thought, I'd lose my virginity at 18, get married at 23 or 24, and have kids at 27, when I would be professionally established." Well, that didn't quite pan out. She was talking to a new guy, he was 25, "he's so green, untainted, wide-eyed, brings vodka in deer park water bottles to house parties. He doesn't know there are cobwebs in my head, and I will never tell him." These days, we're wondering why we couldn't just have stayed with the one that loved us. What am I waiting for? Up until a few years ago, hanging out with a cute guy would've brightened up our entire day. Nowadays, cute doesn't even do much. "I don't even want to bother hooking up with him. I'd rather go home, wash my face, and go to bed." - "It's such an ordeal. The me of 3 years ago would've had a problem turning a guy down, now, even the cutest ones, I don't want to bother with."
Friday, April 26, 2013
I wondered today, when a whole day will pass and you wouldn't have crossed my mind. I wondered when that day would come.
These days I just try not to think about you, what you're doing, who you're with.
And I think, maybe I'll go on one of these dates with these guys I can't even bring myself to be interested in.
I don't know what it's all about.
A year from now, everything will be different.
Waiting for one day.
These days I just try not to think about you, what you're doing, who you're with.
And I think, maybe I'll go on one of these dates with these guys I can't even bring myself to be interested in.
I don't know what it's all about.
A year from now, everything will be different.
Waiting for one day.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
How long does it take to move on?
A: "I still cry every time I think of -. But I know it'll eventually stop."
T: "Eventually?"
Q: "There's no timeline of when you'll get over it. It's usually either when it hurts too much or when u find someone new."
C: "All of the above and yea you might never really get over him."
A: "Yeah unfortunately. You can have many loves."
Q: "Don't ask me. I never get over anyone."
Two and a half years. I wish I had the heart to delete two and a half years of text messages from my phone. Then I could delete your number and it would stick. Then maybe, I could take that way out. Cold turkey. But out of sight, out of mind was never my style. I was the girl who defriended him and then stalked his new girlfriend's Facebook and sobbed over their photographs as a happy looking couple. I was the girl who read everything and looked into everything until it didn't hurt anymore. As much exposure to the wound as I could take, until I couldn't anymore, until I didn't feel anything anymore. That was the way I'd always gone because at least I wouldn't be blind sided one day. I would already know that he had moved on, and I would simply be coping with it.
Out of sight, out of mind meant that, you could be blind sided at any given moment. There would be no easing in to the idea of him and someone new. One day, it would just be there. As a fact. But at least, in the meanwhile, you would've been able to forget about him, to live your life without feeling crazy because you happened to know who he was with or what he was doing at any given moment. But then, there's the danger of never really dealing with the end, the danger of suppressing emotions, that could one day, one random day just take hold, and then you're wondering why, months down the line, you're having a break down because all of a sudden something has reminded you of the life you used to have with him.
I don't know what's better or healthier.
J: "I broke up with him. It took me a year to get over it."
Why are you sad? You broke up with him.
I don't know if it's a girl thing or a human thing. Every guy has asked me that though. Why in the world are you sad? Is it true? When guys are over it, they're just over it? But it hasn't been that way, it hasn't been all roses and over it. Perhaps I've been going through the five stages of grieving without really realizing it. Denial and isolation. Back then, it had felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. I had asked myself a simple question, can you live the rest of your life feeling this way? To be with someone, to have someone that was yours, but yet, feel sad more than you felt happy? And I couldn't, so I left. But I had been deluded enough to think that I would be able to get over it without too much time. Maybe that was the denial part. Anger and bargaining. In the aftermath, there was the period where I would get so angry and feel so much resentment because he never understood. Even when it was over, I still wanted so badly for him to just understand why. And then, in the time after, I thought maybe, maybe I could, we could figure out how to make it work. Depression. the step before Acceptance. I'm not really sure where I am. But somewhere between, maybe.
A guy friend told me recently guys like to date younger girls because they don't carry as much baggage. They're not all depressed and shit. They still know how to have fun. I guess I'm not helping my case. Not attracting any more men with all of this baggage. Whatever. This is life.
A: "I still cry every time I think of -. But I know it'll eventually stop."
T: "Eventually?"
Q: "There's no timeline of when you'll get over it. It's usually either when it hurts too much or when u find someone new."
C: "All of the above and yea you might never really get over him."
A: "Yeah unfortunately. You can have many loves."
Q: "Don't ask me. I never get over anyone."
Two and a half years. I wish I had the heart to delete two and a half years of text messages from my phone. Then I could delete your number and it would stick. Then maybe, I could take that way out. Cold turkey. But out of sight, out of mind was never my style. I was the girl who defriended him and then stalked his new girlfriend's Facebook and sobbed over their photographs as a happy looking couple. I was the girl who read everything and looked into everything until it didn't hurt anymore. As much exposure to the wound as I could take, until I couldn't anymore, until I didn't feel anything anymore. That was the way I'd always gone because at least I wouldn't be blind sided one day. I would already know that he had moved on, and I would simply be coping with it.
Out of sight, out of mind meant that, you could be blind sided at any given moment. There would be no easing in to the idea of him and someone new. One day, it would just be there. As a fact. But at least, in the meanwhile, you would've been able to forget about him, to live your life without feeling crazy because you happened to know who he was with or what he was doing at any given moment. But then, there's the danger of never really dealing with the end, the danger of suppressing emotions, that could one day, one random day just take hold, and then you're wondering why, months down the line, you're having a break down because all of a sudden something has reminded you of the life you used to have with him.
I don't know what's better or healthier.
J: "I broke up with him. It took me a year to get over it."
Why are you sad? You broke up with him.
I don't know if it's a girl thing or a human thing. Every guy has asked me that though. Why in the world are you sad? Is it true? When guys are over it, they're just over it? But it hasn't been that way, it hasn't been all roses and over it. Perhaps I've been going through the five stages of grieving without really realizing it. Denial and isolation. Back then, it had felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. I had asked myself a simple question, can you live the rest of your life feeling this way? To be with someone, to have someone that was yours, but yet, feel sad more than you felt happy? And I couldn't, so I left. But I had been deluded enough to think that I would be able to get over it without too much time. Maybe that was the denial part. Anger and bargaining. In the aftermath, there was the period where I would get so angry and feel so much resentment because he never understood. Even when it was over, I still wanted so badly for him to just understand why. And then, in the time after, I thought maybe, maybe I could, we could figure out how to make it work. Depression. the step before Acceptance. I'm not really sure where I am. But somewhere between, maybe.
A guy friend told me recently guys like to date younger girls because they don't carry as much baggage. They're not all depressed and shit. They still know how to have fun. I guess I'm not helping my case. Not attracting any more men with all of this baggage. Whatever. This is life.
Monday, March 11, 2013
An Obiturary: Losing you
"Have you cried?"
Knowing what to say was never his strong suit. When he asked, he was looking away. And when I was on the verge of tears, he changed the subject. He never said the right things, but then, in that moment, somehow, he got it right.
You passed away at 10:30 p.m. pacific standard time. 3/9/2013.
When I was a kid, I was always scared of you. You were my great uncle, you were stern, you never joked or seemed to laugh. And then I grew up, and you got sick, and my perception of you changed, or maybe you changed, with age and illness. You came to America first, during the war. And in the months and years after, you got the paperwork done for your nieces, nephews, wife and kids you'd left behind. You are the reason I'm here, living the life that I do now.
After you got sick, your marriage fell apart, things fell apart. She stayed with you because she owed you that much. You never traveled. And finally you did, before things got really bad. And that was when you realized, you'd waited too long to see the world. You'd worked too hard for too long, and had put it off for so long, that, at some point, it did seem like, too late.
In the later years, you smiled a lot, I'd even say you were kind of funny. Entirely different from the man I knew growing up. I wonder if that's what age and the knowledge of death does to you sometimes. You suffered for a long time. I know in the end, you just didn't want to be in pain anymore.
It'll just be strange now, going back, and you not being there. But I understand.
Rest in peace Ong Bay.
Knowing what to say was never his strong suit. When he asked, he was looking away. And when I was on the verge of tears, he changed the subject. He never said the right things, but then, in that moment, somehow, he got it right.
You passed away at 10:30 p.m. pacific standard time. 3/9/2013.
When I was a kid, I was always scared of you. You were my great uncle, you were stern, you never joked or seemed to laugh. And then I grew up, and you got sick, and my perception of you changed, or maybe you changed, with age and illness. You came to America first, during the war. And in the months and years after, you got the paperwork done for your nieces, nephews, wife and kids you'd left behind. You are the reason I'm here, living the life that I do now.
After you got sick, your marriage fell apart, things fell apart. She stayed with you because she owed you that much. You never traveled. And finally you did, before things got really bad. And that was when you realized, you'd waited too long to see the world. You'd worked too hard for too long, and had put it off for so long, that, at some point, it did seem like, too late.
In the later years, you smiled a lot, I'd even say you were kind of funny. Entirely different from the man I knew growing up. I wonder if that's what age and the knowledge of death does to you sometimes. You suffered for a long time. I know in the end, you just didn't want to be in pain anymore.
It'll just be strange now, going back, and you not being there. But I understand.
Rest in peace Ong Bay.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
the loss
the loss of a friend was always the hardest part. maybe that's why i could never commit to anyone. i hated losing people so much. i could count the number of friends lost to anger or hurt on one hand. that was it. i never lost people. to commit to someone meant it might end, which meant, there might be a loss at the end of that because what else could there be? maybe one day we'll be okay. maybe one day we'll be friends again.
but we all know. how that story goes. we'll move on. we'll change. we'll grow. and we'll soon, to each other, merely become people we used to know. because other things will have happened in the meanwhile, things neither will have been a part of. and we won't be the same people anymore. and even after the hurt and anger has relented. after the tears have ceased. after the missing goes away. after things no longer really remind you of them. you'll lose that need. that need to have them in your life, and you will relent. you'll accept. that sometimes, some people are only meant to be in your lives for certain periods. and we move on.
only rarely, does the friendship come around again. only rarely.
but we all know. how that story goes. we'll move on. we'll change. we'll grow. and we'll soon, to each other, merely become people we used to know. because other things will have happened in the meanwhile, things neither will have been a part of. and we won't be the same people anymore. and even after the hurt and anger has relented. after the tears have ceased. after the missing goes away. after things no longer really remind you of them. you'll lose that need. that need to have them in your life, and you will relent. you'll accept. that sometimes, some people are only meant to be in your lives for certain periods. and we move on.
only rarely, does the friendship come around again. only rarely.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
It usually doesn't rain in southern California
And I've been thinking about forever.
At almost twenty-eight, I often can't believe how fast time passes, and how much happens. A reminder that you do eventually get over everything, sometimes old friends and old lovers simply become people you used to know, and somehow it's okay. I've learned that sometimes love is not enough for everything else, and though letting go is the hardest thing, for in the those moments when you can't help but miss everyone and every place you used to love so deeply, it's one of the things we must find the strength and courage for. Ultimately, the choices I make today, will alter the course of this life, and it's never going to be too late to get things right.
the former years
"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." - Milan Kundera
At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the ever-long cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.
At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others.
At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires.
At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.
At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.
At twenty-six, I learned people will often tell you, sometimes settling is the only option, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to right a wrong, and sometimes, people won't forgive you, and sometimes, you will forget that you wanted more out of this life, out of the people you adore, and you'll settle for merely what everyone's told you is possible, and not what you know is possible.
At twenty-seven, I learned how hard it is to let someone love you, how hard it is sometimes to live this life right by yourself, by others, and how, even when we should know better, sometimes, sometimes it's not enough. And in moments when I want to settle, when I simply want to give up, how vital it is that I remember what all of this was for. I'm learning, it seems, the older I get, the more blurred the lines between right and wrong become, and the harder it is to believe anything is possible. But there are still those moments that take my breathe away, a kind word from a stranger, an unusual note of affection from a friend. And the weight of belief, the weight of faith, and for everything we can't control, how living is the essence, it's the only thing we have control over.
Suffering from a delayed reaction on life, consistently romanticizing the past, disaffected with the future and an inability to care for the present.
At almost twenty-eight, I often can't believe how fast time passes, and how much happens. A reminder that you do eventually get over everything, sometimes old friends and old lovers simply become people you used to know, and somehow it's okay. I've learned that sometimes love is not enough for everything else, and though letting go is the hardest thing, for in the those moments when you can't help but miss everyone and every place you used to love so deeply, it's one of the things we must find the strength and courage for. Ultimately, the choices I make today, will alter the course of this life, and it's never going to be too late to get things right.
the former years
"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." - Milan Kundera
At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the ever-long cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.
At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others.
At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires.
At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.
At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.
At twenty-six, I learned people will often tell you, sometimes settling is the only option, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to right a wrong, and sometimes, people won't forgive you, and sometimes, you will forget that you wanted more out of this life, out of the people you adore, and you'll settle for merely what everyone's told you is possible, and not what you know is possible.
At twenty-seven, I learned how hard it is to let someone love you, how hard it is sometimes to live this life right by yourself, by others, and how, even when we should know better, sometimes, sometimes it's not enough. And in moments when I want to settle, when I simply want to give up, how vital it is that I remember what all of this was for. I'm learning, it seems, the older I get, the more blurred the lines between right and wrong become, and the harder it is to believe anything is possible. But there are still those moments that take my breathe away, a kind word from a stranger, an unusual note of affection from a friend. And the weight of belief, the weight of faith, and for everything we can't control, how living is the essence, it's the only thing we have control over.
Suffering from a delayed reaction on life, consistently romanticizing the past, disaffected with the future and an inability to care for the present.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
We weren't friends, not by the real definition of the word. We'd only met on a few occasions, and had one real conversation, at this little coffee shop by Logan Circle. It was windy and sunny that day. You talked a lot, you told me a lot, and you were so excited about... everything. The latest project you were working on, ideas you had, a food truck with your brother, visiting your girlfriend in Italy. You wanted to talk about everything. You weren't the most articulate, but you had passion.
When he told me, he was still in shock. I started to cry. But he said, if he wasn't crying, then I couldn't.
I don't know what happened. Most of us don't. But at the very least, we can say this, you lived. More than most people do in an entire life time. And you were loved and talked about. I heard more about you from your friends prior to meeting you than I've ever heard of anyone else. They called you Du Ma, for reasons that've slipped my mind. When we met, I had to ask you again, what your real name was. They said you were this great chef. That during a period of unemployment, you spent a month drinking with another friend who was unemployed. That your drink of choice was Jameson, but you guys had to switch to Wild Turkey because you both were too broke. That you'd managed to move to Singapore to cook. That you always managed to make the things you wanted, happen.
Rest in peace.
When he told me, he was still in shock. I started to cry. But he said, if he wasn't crying, then I couldn't.
I don't know what happened. Most of us don't. But at the very least, we can say this, you lived. More than most people do in an entire life time. And you were loved and talked about. I heard more about you from your friends prior to meeting you than I've ever heard of anyone else. They called you Du Ma, for reasons that've slipped my mind. When we met, I had to ask you again, what your real name was. They said you were this great chef. That during a period of unemployment, you spent a month drinking with another friend who was unemployed. That your drink of choice was Jameson, but you guys had to switch to Wild Turkey because you both were too broke. That you'd managed to move to Singapore to cook. That you always managed to make the things you wanted, happen.
Rest in peace.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Ronald: "'I want, I want, I want', well that makes her an interesting character Ally. When you print your life story, I will be waiting in line atthe bookstore, but for a partner? I don't know if I want to sign up with a person who knows she'll be wanting forever."
Ronald: "That's just you all over, the day you stop wanting Ally is the day you begin to die. You go through people, you'll go through me.
Ally: "That's just so, so..."
Ronald: "...True."
Ally: "You're saying I'm the kind of person that can never be happy?"
Ronald: "I think you'll know more happiness than most. You just won't be content."
Ally McBeal
Ronald: "That's just you all over, the day you stop wanting Ally is the day you begin to die. You go through people, you'll go through me.
Ally: "That's just so, so..."
Ronald: "...True."
Ally: "You're saying I'm the kind of person that can never be happy?"
Ronald: "I think you'll know more happiness than most. You just won't be content."
Ally McBeal
Friday, January 6, 2012
Monday, November 7, 2011
Is anybody okay?
Ben: Am I going to be okay, man?
Pete: Who knows? Is anybody okay? I'm not okay. You're asking the wrong guy.
- Knocked Up
We were driving to the grocery store on Saturday night, and I mentioned how my dad was going to jail today. And my girl asked what for? And my other girl friend said, I like how you ask as if it's whatever. And she replied, well it's not like we haven't been here before.
From father's in jail to mothers fighting cancer to friends struggling in abusive relationships, none of it is really a surprise anymore. At 27-years-old, we've learned, not to be surprised when this stuff happens. And not to be surprised when our parents, even in their wise old age, seem to have more trouble dealing with real life than us.
On the way to court last week, for my dad's arrest in early September — he was charged with drunk in public, resisting arrest and threatening an officer — he said we'd have to go pick up money after. I said, for what? We were going to his bookie. Of course.
He was waiting outside at Eden Center, for my mom to pick him up, when he got arrested — he doesn't drink and drive anymore — and he was wasted, so he doesn't even remember what happened. He'll be serving 9 days in jail, for threatening an officer. The other charges were dropped. $1,500 for a shitty lawyer, that's what I'm thinking. And a waste of my tax dollars for an unnecessary incarceration.
On Thursday, I'm flying out west. A weekend in LA and Las Vegas — yes, I have half of two jobs, make breadcrumbs, will be living in a box house in the future, and still manage to go on vacation more than most. Some people seem truly perplexed at how it is I manage this lifestyle, some think I have a backer. I wish. It's really no secret. My priorities are different. I could be dead tomorrow, and money won't matter then.
Life doesn't care about your plans.
Pete: Who knows? Is anybody okay? I'm not okay. You're asking the wrong guy.
- Knocked Up
We were driving to the grocery store on Saturday night, and I mentioned how my dad was going to jail today. And my girl asked what for? And my other girl friend said, I like how you ask as if it's whatever. And she replied, well it's not like we haven't been here before.
From father's in jail to mothers fighting cancer to friends struggling in abusive relationships, none of it is really a surprise anymore. At 27-years-old, we've learned, not to be surprised when this stuff happens. And not to be surprised when our parents, even in their wise old age, seem to have more trouble dealing with real life than us.
On the way to court last week, for my dad's arrest in early September — he was charged with drunk in public, resisting arrest and threatening an officer — he said we'd have to go pick up money after. I said, for what? We were going to his bookie. Of course.
He was waiting outside at Eden Center, for my mom to pick him up, when he got arrested — he doesn't drink and drive anymore — and he was wasted, so he doesn't even remember what happened. He'll be serving 9 days in jail, for threatening an officer. The other charges were dropped. $1,500 for a shitty lawyer, that's what I'm thinking. And a waste of my tax dollars for an unnecessary incarceration.
On Thursday, I'm flying out west. A weekend in LA and Las Vegas — yes, I have half of two jobs, make breadcrumbs, will be living in a box house in the future, and still manage to go on vacation more than most. Some people seem truly perplexed at how it is I manage this lifestyle, some think I have a backer. I wish. It's really no secret. My priorities are different. I could be dead tomorrow, and money won't matter then.
Life doesn't care about your plans.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
there's no religion that could save me
At twenty-seven, I'm learning how hard it is to let someone love you, how hard it is sometimes to live this life right by yourself, by others, and how, even when we should know better, sometimes, sometimes it's not enough. And in moments when I want to settle, when I simply want to give up, how vital it is that I remember what all of this was for. I'm learning, it seems, the older I get, the more blurred the lines between right and wrong become, and the harder it is to believe anything is possible. But there are still those moments that take my breathe away, a kind word from a stranger, an unusual note of affection from a friend. And the weight of belief, the weight of faith, and for everything we can't control, how living is the essence, it's the only thing we have control over.
the former years
"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." - Milan Kundera
At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the ever-long cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.
At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others.
At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires.
At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.
At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.
At twenty-six, I learned people will often tell you, sometimes settling is the only option, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to right a wrong, and sometimes, people won't forgive you, and sometimes, you will forget that you wanted more out of this life, out of the people you adore, and you'll settle for merely what everyone's told you is possible, and not what you know is possible.
Suffering from a delayed reaction on life, consistently romanticizing the past, disaffected with the future and an inability to care for the present.
the former years
"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." - Milan Kundera
At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the ever-long cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.
At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others.
At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires.
At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.
At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.
At twenty-six, I learned people will often tell you, sometimes settling is the only option, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to right a wrong, and sometimes, people won't forgive you, and sometimes, you will forget that you wanted more out of this life, out of the people you adore, and you'll settle for merely what everyone's told you is possible, and not what you know is possible.
Suffering from a delayed reaction on life, consistently romanticizing the past, disaffected with the future and an inability to care for the present.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Facebook was being annoying, and it made all of my tagged photos viewable to everyone. So, in an attempt to figure out how to fix that, I ended up going back down memory lane. And though I know now, it's been two years since we left, two years since I've had to readjust to 'real life', and though most days, I don't think about Italy anymore, sometimes, on nights like this one, when I'll come across a photograph, or a moment I'd forgotten, I find, I miss the city, and I miss you, as if it were yesterday.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
"So what if I didn't have a girlfriend? Would it be different?"
We'd noticed him. Picked through the guys, noting the cute ones, calling dibs, as if we were younger than we were. Of course, the good one, the one we didn't notice till later 'cause he didn't say much, only smiling on occasion, was often wrapped up on the phone with his girlfriend.
Some people think nothing good happens after 2 a.m., I think, sometimes the most interesting things happen in the depth of night, whether we're inebriated or not, there's something about the late hours that sometimes makes us do things we wouldn't otherwise do. "I don't even know you," he'd said, as if that fact had just occurred to him, midway through his speech on how we should be together. We were standing in the kitchen, and he was still talking, spilling details, thoughts, he'd probably groan about in the morning. I couldn't really believe what I was hearing, or that this was actually happening. "Say this to me again, when you're not drunk." "I know you keep saying I'm drunk, but I'm not," he said, explaining the last beer he had was at some odd hour, but he was because he never spoke that much, and I couldn't figure out how he'd gotten here. A fight with the girlfriend? One too many shots? "Okay, say that I am drunk, and I know people would say differently, but it's then, when people are the most honest, when they say how they really feel." And on other occasion, I'd given that exact same speech. But now, I knew better. Sure, we may say exactly what we feel, in that moment, or what we may have been thinking, a thought that once crossed our minds, exacerbated by the liquor, the booze, but if we can't act on those feelings, thoughts in the sober light of day, then they don't really hold any weight. Unless, we're living our lives drunk. "So what if I didn't have a girlfriend? Would it be different?" Rule #7 Don't get into an affair with a man who's already taken. Especially if you're insecure to begin with because even if you 'win' him in the end, you'll end up wondering through the course of your relationship if he really will be faithful to you. "I was surprised when they said you were Viet." He'd paid attention. He'd kissed me on the forehead. And I wondered, why guys did that. And in the sober light of day, none of it stuck, but for that moment, even though it was in inebriation, I'm not sure I've ever had someone so insistent, in that way, to be with me, when he didn't even know me. And maybe it meant nothing, maybe it was only a passing thought he once had, but I thank you, anyway.
Some people think nothing good happens after 2 a.m., I think, sometimes the most interesting things happen in the depth of night, whether we're inebriated or not, there's something about the late hours that sometimes makes us do things we wouldn't otherwise do. "I don't even know you," he'd said, as if that fact had just occurred to him, midway through his speech on how we should be together. We were standing in the kitchen, and he was still talking, spilling details, thoughts, he'd probably groan about in the morning. I couldn't really believe what I was hearing, or that this was actually happening. "Say this to me again, when you're not drunk." "I know you keep saying I'm drunk, but I'm not," he said, explaining the last beer he had was at some odd hour, but he was because he never spoke that much, and I couldn't figure out how he'd gotten here. A fight with the girlfriend? One too many shots? "Okay, say that I am drunk, and I know people would say differently, but it's then, when people are the most honest, when they say how they really feel." And on other occasion, I'd given that exact same speech. But now, I knew better. Sure, we may say exactly what we feel, in that moment, or what we may have been thinking, a thought that once crossed our minds, exacerbated by the liquor, the booze, but if we can't act on those feelings, thoughts in the sober light of day, then they don't really hold any weight. Unless, we're living our lives drunk. "So what if I didn't have a girlfriend? Would it be different?" Rule #7 Don't get into an affair with a man who's already taken. Especially if you're insecure to begin with because even if you 'win' him in the end, you'll end up wondering through the course of your relationship if he really will be faithful to you. "I was surprised when they said you were Viet." He'd paid attention. He'd kissed me on the forehead. And I wondered, why guys did that. And in the sober light of day, none of it stuck, but for that moment, even though it was in inebriation, I'm not sure I've ever had someone so insistent, in that way, to be with me, when he didn't even know me. And maybe it meant nothing, maybe it was only a passing thought he once had, but I thank you, anyway.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
don't be fooled
Miguel: you're psychologically insane.
Mike: kim i feel like in real life you are a much more upbeat person
Mike: and for some reason online you are as blue as they come
Mike: kim i feel like in real life you are a much more upbeat person
Mike: and for some reason online you are as blue as they come
Monday, September 12, 2011
on parents and adulthood
K: my dad was arrested last week.
C: my dad could have been arrested last week too! why was he?
K: cause he was out drinking ....but he was waiting outside fro my mom to pick him up. and he was drunk. so cops asked him questions i guess... and he didn't cooperate so they arrested him. for drunk in public, resisiting arrest AND threatening to kill an officer. i was like DAD serously
he was like 'i was drunk'
C: my dad could have been arrested because he went to abar on a THURSDAY night.. got so drunk that he called my sister to pick him up, and she found in lying on the ground in the middle of a parking lot
K: you would think. in their adult age. is that going to be us in 25 years
Why we're friends.
C: my dad could have been arrested last week too! why was he?
K: cause he was out drinking ....but he was waiting outside fro my mom to pick him up. and he was drunk. so cops asked him questions i guess... and he didn't cooperate so they arrested him. for drunk in public, resisiting arrest AND threatening to kill an officer. i was like DAD serously
he was like 'i was drunk'
C: my dad could have been arrested because he went to abar on a THURSDAY night.. got so drunk that he called my sister to pick him up, and she found in lying on the ground in the middle of a parking lot
K: you would think. in their adult age. is that going to be us in 25 years
C: i hope not. you'd think we could get a grasp on how to drink responsibly by then. probably not though. i wonder if i will ever procreate.
K: hahahah
K: hahahah
i have such small hips
i dont know how i'll get one out
and then raising it
omggg
i can't even raise myself
we're so poor
how would we find enough money
we'd have to put it in a box house
Why we're friends.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
in the depth of summer
We were talking today, in the car, after getting froyo outdoors at some late night place open by the university in town. Everyone there was home for the summer or at summer school. College kids. High school kids. Kids. We're not kids anymore. Too much has happened.
And we got to thinking, another summer, endless goodbyes. Summers always seemed to be about letting go, either the beginning of an end, goodbyes, or knowing an end would arrive soon enough, when autumn arrived.
And I got to thinking, '03 was a good one. It was the summer after high school, when we didn't know better. We used to stay up late, never go home, break into pools, light illegal fireworks, drive around town simply 'cause we could, cause we could afford it, before the price of gas mattered, that summer was hot, sticky, and we created friendships we never bothered to because it was going to be an end, to the life we'd known in our youth.
And then I remembered the summer of '08, when I met you. And we'd be on the phone most nights, in the depth of July. You were so frustrated with me.
I was in the car with my cousin's husband the other week. And he asked me, why didn't it work out, how did I know? And I replied, it was just a feeling. And he said, that's such a girl answer. 'Cause guys always could list reasons. A guy friend of mine once had a slew of reasons why he'd broken up with the latest girl — she was messy, dirty, crazy, young, really he couldn't believe what a slob she was, she was still in undergrad after all, couldn't really blame her for the morning after, weekend from before beer cans littering the trash can, the kitchen counter.
Anyway, what that guy, that summer, had said to me, resonated. He'd noted that I was stubborn, and I refused often, to simply say how I felt.
And I'd sent him home that summer, left him at an airport terminal, got in my car, and sobbed all the way home. And I promised myself, I would never hurt anyone again. I mean, in retrospect, it was probably more so his pride that I'd hurt. He should've known better — fly halfway across the country to be with a girl he barely knew. That's nuts, isn't it?
At 26 years old, and I'm still astonished when a guy decides he's taken a liking to me. Not because I'm not wonderful, but because I often feel they make that judgment before actually getting to know me. But then again, I only feel a very small fraction of people actually get me.
It'd just be easier, easier on me, if it was my feelings that got hurt, if it was my heart that was breaking because I can handle that. I know how to do that. I know how to get over someone, and I know how to let them back in my life when the storm's passed. But one of the worst things in this life, is hurting someone else. So I don't know how that story goes. It's the part I have no control over.
And we got to thinking, another summer, endless goodbyes. Summers always seemed to be about letting go, either the beginning of an end, goodbyes, or knowing an end would arrive soon enough, when autumn arrived.
And I got to thinking, '03 was a good one. It was the summer after high school, when we didn't know better. We used to stay up late, never go home, break into pools, light illegal fireworks, drive around town simply 'cause we could, cause we could afford it, before the price of gas mattered, that summer was hot, sticky, and we created friendships we never bothered to because it was going to be an end, to the life we'd known in our youth.
And then I remembered the summer of '08, when I met you. And we'd be on the phone most nights, in the depth of July. You were so frustrated with me.
If you miss me, then say that you miss me. But if you don't like me, don't say those things to me.And I didn't have a reply then.
I was in the car with my cousin's husband the other week. And he asked me, why didn't it work out, how did I know? And I replied, it was just a feeling. And he said, that's such a girl answer. 'Cause guys always could list reasons. A guy friend of mine once had a slew of reasons why he'd broken up with the latest girl — she was messy, dirty, crazy, young, really he couldn't believe what a slob she was, she was still in undergrad after all, couldn't really blame her for the morning after, weekend from before beer cans littering the trash can, the kitchen counter.
Anyway, what that guy, that summer, had said to me, resonated. He'd noted that I was stubborn, and I refused often, to simply say how I felt.
And I'd sent him home that summer, left him at an airport terminal, got in my car, and sobbed all the way home. And I promised myself, I would never hurt anyone again. I mean, in retrospect, it was probably more so his pride that I'd hurt. He should've known better — fly halfway across the country to be with a girl he barely knew. That's nuts, isn't it?
At 26 years old, and I'm still astonished when a guy decides he's taken a liking to me. Not because I'm not wonderful, but because I often feel they make that judgment before actually getting to know me. But then again, I only feel a very small fraction of people actually get me.
It'd just be easier, easier on me, if it was my feelings that got hurt, if it was my heart that was breaking because I can handle that. I know how to do that. I know how to get over someone, and I know how to let them back in my life when the storm's passed. But one of the worst things in this life, is hurting someone else. So I don't know how that story goes. It's the part I have no control over.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
I'm sorry I couldn't love you the way you wanted me to.
You were stupid enough to believe the way I felt would change. But you knew better.
I was stupid enough to believe you had the strength to really be my friend. But I knew better.
And so. Here we are.
And at the end of it, I miss you. But that's worth nothing. I know.
You were stupid enough to believe the way I felt would change. But you knew better.
I was stupid enough to believe you had the strength to really be my friend. But I knew better.
And so. Here we are.
And at the end of it, I miss you. But that's worth nothing. I know.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Mike: it's killer
Mike: it's draining
Mike: soul-crushing
Mike: and sometimes you look up from the computer screen
Mike: and you feel like this is it
Mike: nothing comes after this
Mike: like you will do [the job], and then you will be homeless, and then you will die
Kim Chi: not unless i die tomorrow
Mike: then you'll skip the homeless part
Mike: we understand each other, right?
Mike: this is not the end!
Mike: many interesting things will happen to you
Mike: before you die
Mike: assuming you don't die tomorrow
Mike: it's draining
Mike: soul-crushing
Mike: and sometimes you look up from the computer screen
Mike: and you feel like this is it
Mike: nothing comes after this
Mike: like you will do [the job], and then you will be homeless, and then you will die
Kim Chi: not unless i die tomorrow
Mike: then you'll skip the homeless part
Mike: we understand each other, right?
Mike: this is not the end!
Mike: many interesting things will happen to you
Mike: before you die
Mike: assuming you don't die tomorrow
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
i regret nothing
"I was an English major, now I'm working doubles."
eight months since graduation. eight months. they say the average unemployment time is six. i've surpassed that. and how is that so?
what are you doing here? they ask. working doubles at a pizzeria. at twenty-six, with two master's degrees. and i can't really say why, except for the fact that i'm broke.
what did you study? they ask. and i have to pause, to collect my thoughts, undergrad feels like lifetimes ago, and in some ways, it was. english, political science, another poli sci degree, european union policy, communication, journalism and public affairs. the affairs of the public. and i've found i'm very comfortable these days in new situations, new people.
the past few months, i've been wondering if it was all worth it. if going on this seemingly haphazard (but trust me, there was always a direction) was worth the price that i'm paying now, and will pay for decades to come. and i think about it sometimes, what if i'd been an accountant. i'd probably have a job by now, i would've been working for at least two years by now, i probably wouldn't have the massive student loans that i have now. and i wonder this because, i go on these job interviews, and at twenty-six, i've never held a 'real life' full time job, so they quote me at a lower pay, because i have no 'experience.' but how does one define experience? having sat at some job, for the purpose of having a job, to have committed to a city, a town, a desk for 3 years? so in that respect, that was what my worth was judged upon.
and i think, if i died tomorrow, if that was it for me, i'd be okay because i have no regrets, because i've managed to live my life right by myself, because i don't have any 'what if's, because up until this point, i've taken every chance i've had, and because i still haven't given up. and in that respect, it's okay that i'm twenty-six years old and seating patrons at a pizzeria, and it's okay that i temp at random offices, answering phones, picking up lunch, emptying dishwashers, making coffee, punching holes, binding documents, looking up trash cans to purchase, managing calenders and refilling coffee beans.
because when the time is right, when the job is right, when that one interview will finally work out, it'll happen.
and i'd rather be here, in this moment, doing what i'm doing, than to have never done what i've done.
eight months since graduation. eight months. they say the average unemployment time is six. i've surpassed that. and how is that so?
what are you doing here? they ask. working doubles at a pizzeria. at twenty-six, with two master's degrees. and i can't really say why, except for the fact that i'm broke.
what did you study? they ask. and i have to pause, to collect my thoughts, undergrad feels like lifetimes ago, and in some ways, it was. english, political science, another poli sci degree, european union policy, communication, journalism and public affairs. the affairs of the public. and i've found i'm very comfortable these days in new situations, new people.
the past few months, i've been wondering if it was all worth it. if going on this seemingly haphazard (but trust me, there was always a direction) was worth the price that i'm paying now, and will pay for decades to come. and i think about it sometimes, what if i'd been an accountant. i'd probably have a job by now, i would've been working for at least two years by now, i probably wouldn't have the massive student loans that i have now. and i wonder this because, i go on these job interviews, and at twenty-six, i've never held a 'real life' full time job, so they quote me at a lower pay, because i have no 'experience.' but how does one define experience? having sat at some job, for the purpose of having a job, to have committed to a city, a town, a desk for 3 years? so in that respect, that was what my worth was judged upon.
and i think, if i died tomorrow, if that was it for me, i'd be okay because i have no regrets, because i've managed to live my life right by myself, because i don't have any 'what if's, because up until this point, i've taken every chance i've had, and because i still haven't given up. and in that respect, it's okay that i'm twenty-six years old and seating patrons at a pizzeria, and it's okay that i temp at random offices, answering phones, picking up lunch, emptying dishwashers, making coffee, punching holes, binding documents, looking up trash cans to purchase, managing calenders and refilling coffee beans.
because when the time is right, when the job is right, when that one interview will finally work out, it'll happen.
and i'd rather be here, in this moment, doing what i'm doing, than to have never done what i've done.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
...I guess this would apply all across the board. All those I once had friendships with, and those events that transpired over late night conversation, the manner of ease in banter levied with subtext, but momentary leaps, without heart, don't really stand a chance against daylight, do they?
What's worth more? Because there's that line, and once you cross it, nothing's ever the same. And I often wonder, why we sometimes believe we have feelings for someone, but as soon as they're acted upon, it's as if they were never quite real to begin with.
We're creatures of habit, in grade school, you have your desk, even when it's unlabeled, we bristle when someone has decided they'd rather sit where you usually sit. And so in life, we often make decisions out of habit, even when they're mistakes. So sometimes we repeat the same mistakes, simply hoping that this time around, things will be different. But they never really are, are they?
I've been trying my whole life to live it right, to do right by myself, to do right by others. And I've messed up countless times, forgetting that sometimes boundaries matter, and a seemingly necessary selfishness must be weighed against what it's worth.
We right our wrongs, and we move on. Sometimes there's nothing else we can do.
But note: I don't believe in mistakes. Things just happen sometimes. Can't say it was right. But everything happens for a reason.
What's worth more? Because there's that line, and once you cross it, nothing's ever the same. And I often wonder, why we sometimes believe we have feelings for someone, but as soon as they're acted upon, it's as if they were never quite real to begin with.
We're creatures of habit, in grade school, you have your desk, even when it's unlabeled, we bristle when someone has decided they'd rather sit where you usually sit. And so in life, we often make decisions out of habit, even when they're mistakes. So sometimes we repeat the same mistakes, simply hoping that this time around, things will be different. But they never really are, are they?
I've been trying my whole life to live it right, to do right by myself, to do right by others. And I've messed up countless times, forgetting that sometimes boundaries matter, and a seemingly necessary selfishness must be weighed against what it's worth.
We right our wrongs, and we move on. Sometimes there's nothing else we can do.
But note: I don't believe in mistakes. Things just happen sometimes. Can't say it was right. But everything happens for a reason.
i often can't believe how fast time passes. and how much happens. a reminder that you do eventually get over everything, sometimes old friends and old lovers simply become people you used to know, and somehow it's okay. except for the few moments when i just can't help but miss everyone and every place i used to love so deeply.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
This city can be suffocating, wounding, in its memories, its countenance, the way it knows me, but I can't say I love any other more.
I wrote you a letter today. I didn't have paper, there was a long layover, so I wrote it out on napkins, stolen from Starbucks. And I was going to give it to you, or read a version of it to you, these things I should've said before. And then I thought, maybe tomorrow, not tonight. And then I landed, and I thought, maybe it's better I didn't say anything at all. But it's here, written out. For when I find the courage again.
I wrote you a letter today. I didn't have paper, there was a long layover, so I wrote it out on napkins, stolen from Starbucks. And I was going to give it to you, or read a version of it to you, these things I should've said before. And then I thought, maybe tomorrow, not tonight. And then I landed, and I thought, maybe it's better I didn't say anything at all. But it's here, written out. For when I find the courage again.
Friday, March 11, 2011
i'm a romantic. i'm a deep romantic.
i feel too much.
i scoff at the color pink, flowers, frills and dates. but all i want is for a guy to take me on a real date, a real one, the whole nine yards, the kind of evening he really had to think about. i'm independent, strong-minded, strong-willed and opinionated, but i want someone who'll want to take care of me, who will never let me pay, who has his own opinions, but gets where i'm coming from.
this journal i keep. aside from cataloguing my sanity, is mostly a book about every man that's ever had an affect on my life. and i'm not sure if that's sad or what. but that's what it is.
for at the end of this life, it's the people who've made a difference, who've taught us lessons, that matter.
i have to stop settling for less.
i feel too much.
i scoff at the color pink, flowers, frills and dates. but all i want is for a guy to take me on a real date, a real one, the whole nine yards, the kind of evening he really had to think about. i'm independent, strong-minded, strong-willed and opinionated, but i want someone who'll want to take care of me, who will never let me pay, who has his own opinions, but gets where i'm coming from.
this journal i keep. aside from cataloguing my sanity, is mostly a book about every man that's ever had an affect on my life. and i'm not sure if that's sad or what. but that's what it is.
for at the end of this life, it's the people who've made a difference, who've taught us lessons, that matter.
i have to stop settling for less.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
this years love had better last, heaven knows it's high time, i've been waiting, on my own, too long
there are the kind of secrets that bind us, that create trust, love, from which real friendships form, and then there are the kind of secrets that tear us apart, that in their dishonesty breed distrust, to the point that we forget what was good and what was of worth.
and i was willing to wash my hands of it. to deal with the consequences. i believe i was willing to give up what i was protecting. i thought, i actually thought, maybe, maybe it was worth it, you were worth it.
"you had to have known this was going to happen. or did you think it would end differently?"
you had to have known, she kept saying. i had to have known. it was just, i hoped it'd be different this time. i guess i should've gone into it differently. i never think. i just have this habit of leaping.
at this age, you have to ask questions, at this age, you can't just go with the flow because that's when people get hurt because at this age, everything matters. there's just not enough time, like before, when we were younger. because if we're not getting somewhere, then we're just wasting time now.
i'd hate to say it was a waste of time. i'd hate to say it that way. i wish there'd been a different ending. but it never would've worked. because it was dishonest.
and was i really willing to give up what i had?
but on another note. she said, the crazy stays. that's just what happens to us when we have something on the line, when we have something to lose. and the thing is, we're just supposed to find someone who'll love us, for the crazy and all.
and i was willing to wash my hands of it. to deal with the consequences. i believe i was willing to give up what i was protecting. i thought, i actually thought, maybe, maybe it was worth it, you were worth it.
"you had to have known this was going to happen. or did you think it would end differently?"
you had to have known, she kept saying. i had to have known. it was just, i hoped it'd be different this time. i guess i should've gone into it differently. i never think. i just have this habit of leaping.
at this age, you have to ask questions, at this age, you can't just go with the flow because that's when people get hurt because at this age, everything matters. there's just not enough time, like before, when we were younger. because if we're not getting somewhere, then we're just wasting time now.
i'd hate to say it was a waste of time. i'd hate to say it that way. i wish there'd been a different ending. but it never would've worked. because it was dishonest.
and was i really willing to give up what i had?
but on another note. she said, the crazy stays. that's just what happens to us when we have something on the line, when we have something to lose. and the thing is, we're just supposed to find someone who'll love us, for the crazy and all.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
"Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option."- Mark Twain
I get crazy, you know? That's how I've always been able to tell that I like a guy, that I'm in trouble. I start to feel the insecurity, the jealousy, the crazy brewing just beneath the surface. The crazy that no one likes, the crazy that I hate myself for falling into. And I hate myself that way so much that if it doesn't freak them out, if it doesn't chase them away, well, I figure out how to leave myself. I figure a way out somehow because I hate the crazy. But I just don't know how to make myself not be that way. I know how to catch a guy. It's easy. I'm completely myself, and I'm confident and I say what I think and I don't give a crap if they care or not, but the second I start to realize I have something to lose, I just end up losing myself.
I get crazy, you know? That's how I've always been able to tell that I like a guy, that I'm in trouble. I start to feel the insecurity, the jealousy, the crazy brewing just beneath the surface. The crazy that no one likes, the crazy that I hate myself for falling into. And I hate myself that way so much that if it doesn't freak them out, if it doesn't chase them away, well, I figure out how to leave myself. I figure a way out somehow because I hate the crazy. But I just don't know how to make myself not be that way. I know how to catch a guy. It's easy. I'm completely myself, and I'm confident and I say what I think and I don't give a crap if they care or not, but the second I start to realize I have something to lose, I just end up losing myself.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
blue skies, broken hearts
"Sometimes we expect more from others because we would be willing to do that much for them."
I don't know where this quote originated from, but there are about 30,000 people liking it on Facebook currently.
We were sitting in my room a few weeks ago, having one of those conversations that would either be the end of us or would mend what had been broken. Thankfully, we're on the road toward mending, but she'd spoken of expectations, and how she'd learned not to expect things out of people. That way everything was under your own control, and I guess, you wouldn't blame others or resent others for when things didn't go as you'd thought they would. That way you'd hold yourself accountable. It makes sense.
I've always been a fairly good friend. Despite my faults. I'm the kind of person who'll wake up at 3 a.m. to help a drunk friend in the house, or pick you up from D.C., the kind of friend who'd pick you up from the airport so you wouldn't have to take public transportation, the kind of friend who'll try to bake you cookies even though they suck or listen to you cry over an ex-boyfriend time and time again. And so, I've always expected the same out of the people who I choose to be in my life, the people whom I proudly call my friends. And trust me, I choose them carefully. And I'm aware, we choose our friends, knowing what we're getting into, knowing how they are, what they're capable of, and the kind of friend they're able to be.
But it's still sad sometimes, really sad, when you realize, as much as you love them, you're just no longer okay with that much less than you'd give.
I don't know where this quote originated from, but there are about 30,000 people liking it on Facebook currently.
We were sitting in my room a few weeks ago, having one of those conversations that would either be the end of us or would mend what had been broken. Thankfully, we're on the road toward mending, but she'd spoken of expectations, and how she'd learned not to expect things out of people. That way everything was under your own control, and I guess, you wouldn't blame others or resent others for when things didn't go as you'd thought they would. That way you'd hold yourself accountable. It makes sense.
I've always been a fairly good friend. Despite my faults. I'm the kind of person who'll wake up at 3 a.m. to help a drunk friend in the house, or pick you up from D.C., the kind of friend who'd pick you up from the airport so you wouldn't have to take public transportation, the kind of friend who'll try to bake you cookies even though they suck or listen to you cry over an ex-boyfriend time and time again. And so, I've always expected the same out of the people who I choose to be in my life, the people whom I proudly call my friends. And trust me, I choose them carefully. And I'm aware, we choose our friends, knowing what we're getting into, knowing how they are, what they're capable of, and the kind of friend they're able to be.
But it's still sad sometimes, really sad, when you realize, as much as you love them, you're just no longer okay with that much less than you'd give.
story goes she got me cookies on sunday...
ann: but they are hard now
me: well i like hard ones. are they stale. this makes me so sad. try it. is it stale? i can eat hard cookies. this sounds relaly pathetic.
ann: yea its hard as a rock
me: sigh
ann: Haha. ill bake some cookies for you tomorrow!
me: oh. to what do i owe this wonderful event.
ann: bc we are friends
ann: but they are hard now
me: well i like hard ones. are they stale. this makes me so sad. try it. is it stale? i can eat hard cookies. this sounds relaly pathetic.
ann: yea its hard as a rock
me: sigh
ann: Haha. ill bake some cookies for you tomorrow!
me: oh. to what do i owe this wonderful event.
ann: bc we are friends
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
"We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore, until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping. And that even the biggest failure, even the worst most intractable mistake beats the hell out of never trying."
Monday, February 7, 2011
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
morning affairs, from bed
At twenty-six, I'm finding out, people will often tell you, sometimes settling is the only option, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to right a wrong, and sometimes, people won't forgive you, and sometimes, you will forget that you wanted more out of this life, out of the people you adore, and you'll settle for merely what everyone's told you is possible, and not what you know is possible.
the former years
"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." -Milan Kundera
At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the everlong cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.
At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others
At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires
At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.
At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.
My existence these days can only be summed up as surreal. Loss of sanity, happiness as momentary leaps dotting the horizon.
I am from planet earth, of this I'm sure. Of only this I'm sure.
the former years
"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." -Milan Kundera
At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the everlong cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.
At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others
At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires
At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.
At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.
My existence these days can only be summed up as surreal. Loss of sanity, happiness as momentary leaps dotting the horizon.
I am from planet earth, of this I'm sure. Of only this I'm sure.
A Writer's Life
Me: "What's wrong?"
Her: "What do you mean. A lot of things are wrong."
Me: "God. Most people would say. 'What do you mean. Nothing's wrong.'"
Her: "Well I'm crazy."
Her: "What do you mean. A lot of things are wrong."
Me: "God. Most people would say. 'What do you mean. Nothing's wrong.'"
Her: "Well I'm crazy."
where you are
“Most girls’ plan is to meet a guy, love, have a baby, but I don’t know if I have what it takes for everybody’s regular plan” - How Do You Know
At times I can be jealous, insecure, territorial, selfish. Even when I don't want more, even when I know I will be fine without this, even when I know I will be fine when this won't be the story anymore.
Have confidence, they always say. I love a man with confidence, and I can tell within the first few minutes of meeting him if he's insecure with who he is. Those guys generally don't stand a chance. I'm riddled with insecurities, and as a result, I don't generally fight for what I want when it comes to matters of the heart. If I think he's into someone else, then that's that. I don't know. Maybe I should start fighting though.
This year was riddled with mistakes, mistakes I had to make.
The spring tested a childhood crush. This guy, when I was younger, I adored. I used to mention him in my journal, subtleties, how nice he was, never really saying how I felt because he'd talk to me about some phone conversation he had with some girl he was crazy about. And then he'd write about it on his online journal, which everyone was privy to. We were young, but he was open and honest, and he was seemingly crazy about her. And I forgot all of that. So as an adult, when he said he wasn't the relationship type, even though I knew better, I forgot that he really was capable of adoration when he found the right girl.
The summer found a certain recklessness that should only be had with youth. At this age, I should know better. But I never really went through that stage when I should've, so I had a delayed growth period. Funny how, mistakes are sometimes known as growth periods.
And with autumn, I had to learn how to deal with the mistakes I was making. Mistakes that shouldn't be made at this age, but there they were.
I thought at this age, I'd figure it out. I'd figure out what I wanted in a real love, and I'd commit to a man, and I'd commit to a career, and I'd know what I was going to do with my life. I never would've thought at twenty-six, I couldn't afford to buy my parents a television, I'd still be hurting friends, coin tosses away from breaking hearts. I'm beginning to think, this is life, and I will always make mistakes, sometimes they'll be big, sometimes not so much, but I don't think I'll ever stop fucking up or stop muddling about.
Someone told me, you either pick a job or you pick a city, and I've been choosing the latter. All my life I've worked for the former, running away from this city for weeks and and months at a time. A part of me doesn't want to run away anymore, but I can't seem to make things right, here.
All I wish for in 2011 is some answers, some growing up (a job, a pay check, a 401k?, health insurance!). There were too many mistakes this year, with them lessons, but things just don't feel okay.
On the bright side: at least I'm not getting deported.
At times I can be jealous, insecure, territorial, selfish. Even when I don't want more, even when I know I will be fine without this, even when I know I will be fine when this won't be the story anymore.
Have confidence, they always say. I love a man with confidence, and I can tell within the first few minutes of meeting him if he's insecure with who he is. Those guys generally don't stand a chance. I'm riddled with insecurities, and as a result, I don't generally fight for what I want when it comes to matters of the heart. If I think he's into someone else, then that's that. I don't know. Maybe I should start fighting though.
This year was riddled with mistakes, mistakes I had to make.
The spring tested a childhood crush. This guy, when I was younger, I adored. I used to mention him in my journal, subtleties, how nice he was, never really saying how I felt because he'd talk to me about some phone conversation he had with some girl he was crazy about. And then he'd write about it on his online journal, which everyone was privy to. We were young, but he was open and honest, and he was seemingly crazy about her. And I forgot all of that. So as an adult, when he said he wasn't the relationship type, even though I knew better, I forgot that he really was capable of adoration when he found the right girl.
The summer found a certain recklessness that should only be had with youth. At this age, I should know better. But I never really went through that stage when I should've, so I had a delayed growth period. Funny how, mistakes are sometimes known as growth periods.
And with autumn, I had to learn how to deal with the mistakes I was making. Mistakes that shouldn't be made at this age, but there they were.
I thought at this age, I'd figure it out. I'd figure out what I wanted in a real love, and I'd commit to a man, and I'd commit to a career, and I'd know what I was going to do with my life. I never would've thought at twenty-six, I couldn't afford to buy my parents a television, I'd still be hurting friends, coin tosses away from breaking hearts. I'm beginning to think, this is life, and I will always make mistakes, sometimes they'll be big, sometimes not so much, but I don't think I'll ever stop fucking up or stop muddling about.
Someone told me, you either pick a job or you pick a city, and I've been choosing the latter. All my life I've worked for the former, running away from this city for weeks and and months at a time. A part of me doesn't want to run away anymore, but I can't seem to make things right, here.
All I wish for in 2011 is some answers, some growing up (a job, a pay check, a 401k?, health insurance!). There were too many mistakes this year, with them lessons, but things just don't feel okay.
On the bright side: at least I'm not getting deported.
Friday, November 5, 2010
For Sale, Empty Lot
Her: "I need to get a guy bff so I don't hang w stragglers. You want the job?"
Him: "Do i have to interview? Whats the deal with relocation fees?"
Him: "Did I win the part?"
Her: "Your relocation is too difficult, but the position is still empty."
Him: "Ok. I just don't want to lose out to some chump."
Him: "Promise me."
Her: "Pinky swear."
Him: "Do i have to interview? Whats the deal with relocation fees?"
Him: "Did I win the part?"
Her: "Your relocation is too difficult, but the position is still empty."
Him: "Ok. I just don't want to lose out to some chump."
Him: "Promise me."
Her: "Pinky swear."
How Did it Feel
I thought about it. How would it feel. How would I feel. In a moment, you came to your senses, and you figured it out, that I wasn't right, and you decided, the one who was right, was someone else. So I thought about it. How would it feel. How would it feel. Even though, I'm aware you are not it. How would it feel. And I knew I couldn't do this. I've always known. I don't believe this works. The whole, friends with benefits. I knew I couldn't do it more than once without getting emotionally attached. I'd be fine. More fine than you, perhaps, if it were reversed. But, I never had the emotional capacity for this kind of thing. It was difficult before. To hurt someone, to be hurt, to get over. Ruins the idea of everything.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
What's with the tattoo?
On my wrist, is a tattoo of an envelope with a heart on the flap. Strange, I know. Most people don't get it. Most people don't get me.
People always ask. We'll be in the middle of a bar, or a party, or eating in a restaurant, and they'll ask. And I'll shrug, and say I don't want to explain.
Anyway, I had viet coffee again. I drank it at 1 p.m., which I thought was a safe hour, but here I am, awake at 3:22 a.m. So here's what it means.
It's for my inability to be happy in any one place for too long. It's for this need I always seem to have with running away, for the sake of growing up, for the sake of sanity. It's letters home, for everyone I always find myself leaving behind, for everyone I've ever loved that I can't be near. I'm consistently leaving people behind. It's letters to everyone that can't be here, in this moment. It's for everything I could never say to my mother, for our language barrier, for our differences, our inability to understand the worlds in which we grew up in. It's for everything I could never express to my dad. It's for everything I will never say to the father, who was once married to my mother, who loved me as he knew, who I hope is happy somewhere. And it's for everything I could never say, written in a letter, to you. I was never good with words in the verbal medium.
This is why I don't explain these things when people ask. It's rather a long story.
People always ask. We'll be in the middle of a bar, or a party, or eating in a restaurant, and they'll ask. And I'll shrug, and say I don't want to explain.
Anyway, I had viet coffee again. I drank it at 1 p.m., which I thought was a safe hour, but here I am, awake at 3:22 a.m. So here's what it means.
It's for my inability to be happy in any one place for too long. It's for this need I always seem to have with running away, for the sake of growing up, for the sake of sanity. It's letters home, for everyone I always find myself leaving behind, for everyone I've ever loved that I can't be near. I'm consistently leaving people behind. It's letters to everyone that can't be here, in this moment. It's for everything I could never say to my mother, for our language barrier, for our differences, our inability to understand the worlds in which we grew up in. It's for everything I could never express to my dad. It's for everything I will never say to the father, who was once married to my mother, who loved me as he knew, who I hope is happy somewhere. And it's for everything I could never say, written in a letter, to you. I was never good with words in the verbal medium.
This is why I don't explain these things when people ask. It's rather a long story.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
another birthday
Four years ago, my mother was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. She later had a mastectomy. I remember speaking with the doctor over the phone, 120 miles away from home, on this clear early autumn day, between classes. He said it was a 50/50 chance. He didn't sound hopeful. And that was that. I remember being in the waiting room. I always hated hospitals, something about the smell, the death, the sick people. I remember the chemo treatments. That autumn, I took 18 credits, an internship 50 miles away from campus and at one point, between dealing with all of that and heart break, I couldn't eat for two weeks. The thought of food physically made me nauseous. I ended that semester with the highest GPA of my college career.
Two years ago, I packed my life into a suitcase and caught a flight to Florence, Italy. I moved in with 15 complete strangers, and it was the best thing I ever did. There were weeks where there was nothing more that I wanted, than living in the moments I was living in. You know you have it good when you don't want time to pass by any faster than they do. There was no, muddling through the week simply to get to the weekend–where in the ordinary life, living begins. Every day, I couldn't believe that was my life.
I've had my world, everything I've ever believed in, almost crumble. Where nothing mattered but praying. And I've had days, months where I've done more living than most can say in a life time.
So now, whatever the next stage of this life brings me, I know I'll be ready, I'll be okay, and things might even end up amazing.
Two years ago, I packed my life into a suitcase and caught a flight to Florence, Italy. I moved in with 15 complete strangers, and it was the best thing I ever did. There were weeks where there was nothing more that I wanted, than living in the moments I was living in. You know you have it good when you don't want time to pass by any faster than they do. There was no, muddling through the week simply to get to the weekend–where in the ordinary life, living begins. Every day, I couldn't believe that was my life.
I've had my world, everything I've ever believed in, almost crumble. Where nothing mattered but praying. And I've had days, months where I've done more living than most can say in a life time.
So now, whatever the next stage of this life brings me, I know I'll be ready, I'll be okay, and things might even end up amazing.
Friday, August 13, 2010
On two formers, and nine years later
We'd grow up, test out waters we never got around to, thinking maybe the past had it wrong, but we'd find we were right the first time.
People who still amuse you, even though you haven't spoken for months, years–those are keepers. Note: 10 years later, you're still on my list.
July 18, 2001
"haha so we do know how to get past "hey" =)"
Somewhere along this string we lost our innocence.
People who still amuse you, even though you haven't spoken for months, years–those are keepers. Note: 10 years later, you're still on my list.
July 18, 2001
"haha so we do know how to get past "hey" =)"
Somewhere along this string we lost our innocence.
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