Crushes are strange, one day you're completely normal just minding your own business, and the next: they just suddenly appear there, always in the back of your mind. They're a super unique person, and you want to know what it's like to kiss them, and you want to hang out with them all the time. I hate that the most. Wanting to be around someone more often.
Crushes are just inconvenient.
Luckily for me, all my crushes have a short life span.
Thursday, November 29, 2018
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
find something you're passionate about
and keep tremendously interested in it.
The fact that Julie Powell found the motivation to go through 524 recipes in one year AND write about it each day is also inspiring. Watching Julie & Julia always makes me think I could also master the art of french cooking, but let's be real, I still can't pronounce 'beef bourguignon,' nor do I have the most minimal intention of ever boning a duck or murdering and dismembering a crustacean . The only thing I have in common with Julie is that I like to blog. I haven't been writing much this year but you know, as I watched the movie I decided that I was going to give myself a goal, to just write everyday. No matter how small an entry, no matter how pointless an entry it could be. The point is to keep the habit going.
On second thought, Julia Child was 32 when she started cooking, so who knows, maybe next year will be my year.
Wednesday, November 14, 2018
where my love grows
I've found that I expend much more energy
pretending I don't long for certain things.
Like the way I used to pull words from my chest. I'd imagine the words dropping like petals off some flower in me, the "loves me, loves me not" in my mind. In the end it's never been about whether I am loved or not, it's the anticipation of the answer that matters. It's where my love grows. I could even make love out of the disillusionment when the answer was "not."
It has been much more draining not being able to express the things that hurt, the things I miss, and the things I yearn for, and I'm not even sure how I came to be this quiet.
But I hope this is the first step in finding the words.
pretending I don't long for certain things.
Like the way I used to pull words from my chest. I'd imagine the words dropping like petals off some flower in me, the "loves me, loves me not" in my mind. In the end it's never been about whether I am loved or not, it's the anticipation of the answer that matters. It's where my love grows. I could even make love out of the disillusionment when the answer was "not."
It has been much more draining not being able to express the things that hurt, the things I miss, and the things I yearn for, and I'm not even sure how I came to be this quiet.
But I hope this is the first step in finding the words.
Wednesday, October 24, 2018
that's the thing about loving someone who doesn't love you anymore
There's no emergency escape plan. You just fucking stay there, stupid and sad, waiting for the day you realize you think about them a little less often.
I was just listening to music when the thought occurred to me.
I was just listening to music when the thought occurred to me.
Monday, October 8, 2018
i promise that i love you
i just don't know how to show it. i don't know how to write it in perfect sentences.
how do i explain the electric currents under my skin when you're near?
because the feeling is more than words, it's sounds and colors like radio static and kaleidoscopic patterns.
my heart bursts if you touch me, and i think it should be a painting.
my lungs puncture and my ribs collapse every time you look at me, and all my pieces are beautiful like found art.
the places we've been should be monuments and our nights together are national holidays with lighted skies and picnic tables.
by Margarita Romero
how do i explain the electric currents under my skin when you're near?
because the feeling is more than words, it's sounds and colors like radio static and kaleidoscopic patterns.
my heart bursts if you touch me, and i think it should be a painting.
my lungs puncture and my ribs collapse every time you look at me, and all my pieces are beautiful like found art.
the places we've been should be monuments and our nights together are national holidays with lighted skies and picnic tables.
by Margarita Romero
Thursday, September 20, 2018
space girl
some have roses in glass cases
their greatest love,
their greatest fear,
encapsulated
but she's more than flowers
she's the quietude in your sunset,
your secrets to the moon,
unsaturated
by Margarita R.
*Hadn't written anything in a while but this one occurred to me while listening to Space Song by Beach House.
their greatest love,
their greatest fear,
encapsulated
but she's more than flowers
she's the quietude in your sunset,
your secrets to the moon,
unsaturated
by Margarita R.
*Hadn't written anything in a while but this one occurred to me while listening to Space Song by Beach House.
Monday, August 20, 2018
I knew the probability of early miscarriage, but facts and statistics can never prepare you for the loss. Doctors never tell you what it feels like to flush your baby down a toilet.
It's like losing a limb and feeling phantom pains. One night you're laying in bed and you feel a tug at your heart, and it hurts, but there's nothing there.
There is no closure. You only wait for days to pass by so you can think about it less.
It's like losing a limb and feeling phantom pains. One night you're laying in bed and you feel a tug at your heart, and it hurts, but there's nothing there.
There is no closure. You only wait for days to pass by so you can think about it less.
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