, HOW TO FEEL LIKE A CHILD AGAIN

I crave the kind of vulnerability that only fooling with another heart can make me feel. I cannot find this sensation in an unfamiliar city, neither at the bottom of a cold Swedish lake, neither in my morning commute, or my second cup of coffee, or in not using a map, neither in the highlighted raw sentences from books I feel could have been my own. I cannot find any folly nearly foolishly satisfying enough as is trying to convince another heart and be convinced by another heart.

I have searched on Division Street in Wicker Park; I thought maybe I could freeze myself to vulnerability. Surprise that that did not suffice.

I have thought long and hard about how I could feel if the ceiling became the floor; if everything changed, and life rearranged, and sea creatures painted the world.  Yet again, I feel too comfortable.

I have explored every nook and uncanny cranny and I cannot shake the tactlessness.

In order to rediscover the beauty, I need to resort back to basic human qualities. reconsider how to breathe, how to piece an intelligent thought together, this touch is okay, don't look for too long...don't think so hard, okay, that was too hard. DON'T think about fucking, definitely don't do that, it will consume you. stop analyzing every movement, stop thinking about voices and jawlines. This is the kind of vulnerability I need. The kind I could never get used to.

, how to move like a child again
teaching pronunciation like i'm reading on my grandma's basement steps again
feeling something again that i am more than just myself
that love can extend vastly, and that love comes easily, without the smallest flicker of a doubt, and generally without wanting it or without a purpose to fulfill. isn't that beautiful? how powerful it is? it is always there and i haven't even wanted it, to be truthful.

that it's okay to just be. to just be with you.
because i think that the important things can be felt and i don't even have to say it (and especially when my heart is jumping up my throat)

you make me feel feelings that tell me i really exist, i really am existing, and i think that is why i feel so at home.
(i am so tired of finding a home in another person)
because now nothing and nowhere else can feel like home

vulnerability human qualities
makeme think about my movements and my voice
make me reconsider hwo to breathe

I DON'T NEED YOU TO CATCH MY WANDERING MIND,

I WILL DO MY BEST TO MEET YOU THERE.

my bones tonight can rest until seven in the morning. today i got by with ignoring the pile on my floor once more. incense is burning for the fourth time today; perhaps my room is too small for something so strong. it's wednesday so pine street is a bit more loud than normal. i feel exhausted. i've been brushing my hair every day. i can't find the right kind of quiet here. always on edge; feeling like i'm waiting to start living.

WRITES WITH EYES CLOSED

I don't see you there anymore, or then anymore, or around anymore anywhere. And especially not here. which brings me to something a bit more exciting, perhaps a bit more telling of what IS seen inside of this 'thing' (me being the 'thing')
i am certainly being chased quite quickly, but from what, i've never been sure. here, there are staircases that seem to go on for miles, so i am ascending them at such a velocity i have to stop to breathe on the second to last set. i pause there and can see into my windows from the ledge. you see, my apartment isn't much for walls, but windows rather. so this way i can absorb all the natural light, drink my morning coffee while my small slice of the world wakes up.
i can see from the ledge to the inside and i can see that my apartment is out of sorts. once inside, i have found that there are ripped letters, cabinets thrown open and contents poured out, tables and chair legs strewn about the living room, the tv's glass smashed to pieces, the appliances beaten and detached from their assigned spaces amongst the framework.  and my money is gone.
and i have no context for what has just happened to me. i run out to the ledge again. i look below onto the dismal street. i see a former friend telling me to fucking jump. i look back into my apartment and see it is fully aflame now, who has been inside of there? the heat is so much i can feel my skin dissolving. so he's screaming to jump. i throw myself from the ledge and i soar above the fifteen flights of stairs, suspended forever. i've never felt so free. i wish i would have jumped years ago. and i wish he wouldn't have had to tell me to jump.

PERTAINING TO NONVERBALS: PT 1

it is impossible to maintain a relationship with someone whose first language is not your language. (i overheard a conversation like this the other day, saying that it can be okay, but it gets so difficult, because too much ends up being left unsaid; and much is met in the middle rather than finally determined...so goes this, however small, everlasting language barrier.)

i absolutely believe this not to be true. i have formed some of the strongest friendships of my life with people who are not even from the united states, therefore, neither whose first language is english. whether speaking from a swedish-english standpoint, or a spanish-english standpoint, or a french-english standpoint, or an english-english standpoint, all of the love still feels the same. i feel more close with them than almost everyone, and i have never felt that this closeness or this love has been threatened by language; if anything, perhaps enhanced. to let something like my language or my country hold me back from opening my life or my heart to those outside of that makes me scared that we are all living in the comfort of our own pre-packaged lives.

that said, i believe in the power of words more than anyone. i sit and think about words and their shapes and their sounds and their sequences and semantics more than i think of anything else because of how much they fascinate me. one misarticulated sound, a change in pitch, inflection, stress, or rate, these minor nuances in language can prove so much in relation to the thought as a whole, can tell so much about the person as a human. but there exists so much more than words within the realm of nonverbal communication. there exists a means of communicating and demonstrating compassion for others which cannot and should not be limited by language, or country, or culture, or gender, or anything. the kindest things are not said, but are shown. the most bold moves are more bold than the most bold words.

Det verkar så enkelt vännen, ändå är det så obegripligt svårt. Men ingenting i denna världen var väl någonsin lätt att förstå.

i'm trying to get comfortable with life here. i'm going to try to live as numbly as possible next semester otherwise i am going to lose it. welcome to the new year. i have to say that 2013 was more of a transition year than anything; spending most of my time wishing to be somewhere else. i'm trying to continue to grow into the person i can become being here, but i don't absorb anything from my surroundings or the people. i'm just going to try to make it out of 2014 without going insane. i realize how negative this is, and i'm typically not so overwhelmingly negative, but the thought of being here another entire year doing nothing but intense studying and working as much as possible makes me a bit sick, and i am quite scared of the looming year. i need some new escape to make its way to me. i need to be around people who and places that inspire me and i have never found that here. i'm going to make 2014 about growing inside of my own head and then get the hell out in december. i'm going to try to get the hell over sweden and move on with my life. i'm really really going to consciously try to get over it, even if that means cutting myself off.  i'm going to try to grow despite missing everything and everyone at every moment of every day. i'm going to try to stop living in the memory of the past and focus on what could be in less than a year's time. i'm going to try to avoid name dropping my friends far away and the word 'stockholm' with every conversation i have. it makes it too impossible to live here in the present when my heart and my head aren't here. and cheers to falling off the social map (virtually and otherwise).