Demitasse

1. i sat down after buying the macarons from Boulange to try one or two. and of course, i finished the box.

2. view outside my window. it reminded me of a cool urban jungle scene.

CD took me and DD on a really awesome hike in the Marin Highlands that lead us down to a black sanded shore. It was beautiful, but my lungs were ready to explode when heading back up.

eight years swallow us

memory sea sway our boat

our paradise found

it has come to this, and i am quite happy

to be candid, i feel more illuminated in the past 2.5-3 weeks than the last 3 years.

it’s astounding and at times paralyzing how things always seem to come back. how the small, trivial details of a moment double forward and shake you on the shoulders days, weeks, or years later. i’m no spiritual girl, and i hate seeming naive by believing in a fate or destiny. destiny seems (to me) to be a man made idea popularized by sappy love stories that was originally purposed for stories of heroism. At any rate, all of my revelations seem to stem from these small, trivial things; and i can only perceive them as an author conveys foreshadowing.

i suppose perhaps this is what i should have been paying attention to all along. the fact that i gauged how good my week was on how many times i didn’t end up crying in the bathroom at work. or the bubbling anxiety and sheer exhaustion from just looking at what nursing schools required. i was pushing myself into a future i already knew i was just settling on (it still is an option, though just not my first anymore). i’ve prevaricated myself because making a choice was a necessity, everyone was moving, and i was static.

so hello, 3 years later.

i’ve just been a stupid self-liar, and i just realized how easy it is for me to turn myself into a fool. thank goodness the fool in me caught on before i turn 40 and decide to move into a relative’s basement with a hot cheeto stained futon.

and now, back to meditating on what it will really be like to have nothing.

you’re wrapped in flannel

coffee stains your manuscript

i don’t date hipsters

“It’s the stupid details that my heart is breaking for
It’s the way your shoulders shake and what they’re shaking for
It’s knowing that she knows you now after only guessing
I want you
It’s the thought of her undressing you or you undressing…”

I applaud risk takers and truth talkers.

i can never get any work done at home. my bed is my chair that is also like a venus fly trap. only i’m not willing to get out of it.

fakescience: