we went out smoking several more times in the following weeks. they were pink and black camels and she kept the package in her pants pocket. i remember walking numbly to her dorm late at night because i needed to see someone. she dyed my hair purple, brushed it smooth as i sat on the edge of her bathtub. we walked around the campus and down several streets smoking and talking. one cigarette after another, one secret after another. "i'm hopeful that all we need is time."
30 November 2014
FEELING NYQUIL AND NEUTRAL
the fist time i smoked a cigarette i was in my car with my friend molly. she was driving us and i was in the passenger seat because i hate driving. she drove my car a lot our first semester of college. she went to buy cigarettes at the convenience store and thanked me a handful for not getting angry at her for buying them. i told her how little i cared. i'd never smoked before but cared very little about anything in those months. she said it was because she missed home and cigarettes reminded her of her dad. she said she didn't really smoke. very near where i live now, we were paused at a stop sign and i asked if i could try it. she passed it to me, and as i held it comfortably between my index and middle finger, i inhaled. "it tastes like nothing."
we went out smoking several more times in the following weeks. they were pink and black camels and she kept the package in her pants pocket. i remember walking numbly to her dorm late at night because i needed to see someone. she dyed my hair purple, brushed it smooth as i sat on the edge of her bathtub. we walked around the campus and down several streets smoking and talking. one cigarette after another, one secret after another. "i'm hopeful that all we need is time."
that night, and now. i am so thankful for molly. i am so thankful for those lost and terrifying moments of searching for anything to make me right. i am graduating in less than two weeks and i am not as sure about anything as i was in that cigarette's nothingness.
we went out smoking several more times in the following weeks. they were pink and black camels and she kept the package in her pants pocket. i remember walking numbly to her dorm late at night because i needed to see someone. she dyed my hair purple, brushed it smooth as i sat on the edge of her bathtub. we walked around the campus and down several streets smoking and talking. one cigarette after another, one secret after another. "i'm hopeful that all we need is time."
28 November 2014
THINGS I THOUGHT I WOULDN'T WANT
take me back to madrid walking down crowded guzman el bueno during the morning commute
racing well-dressed hard workers and children in school uniforms
on my way to my academy and feeling on fire from keaton henson,
my shy "café con leche por favor, para llevar" every morning
crossing the two crosswalks and greeting the doorman
listening to music on a bench, alone outside
realizing the walk from my favourite coffee shop to my home was so short
just a few turns to keaton's sounds
how lonely and empty i felt most of this summer; retrospectively, growing
in the moments of the most hurt and loneliness i have scrutinized life the most
only once i've now come out onto the other side can i look back and think how challenging something was and how now i'm not so afraid
the reason behind every cigarette i've wanted to smoke - was this one about vanity? boredom? curiosity? desire? dessert? fear?
to spend a weekend in the haunted house playing along with ghosts snuggled in a sleeping pile awaiting the three am lights and electricity
it's a strange thing to miss things i never thought i'd think about again because i lived them in a different light; wishing most of it were over sooner and now i'm wishing i could go back and enjoy it in better way all over again, and that is one of the worst ways to miss something...when i didn't enjoy it the first time round.
i bet this is what divorce must be like.
racing well-dressed hard workers and children in school uniforms
on my way to my academy and feeling on fire from keaton henson,
my shy "café con leche por favor, para llevar" every morning
crossing the two crosswalks and greeting the doorman
listening to music on a bench, alone outside
realizing the walk from my favourite coffee shop to my home was so short
just a few turns to keaton's sounds
how lonely and empty i felt most of this summer; retrospectively, growing
in the moments of the most hurt and loneliness i have scrutinized life the most
only once i've now come out onto the other side can i look back and think how challenging something was and how now i'm not so afraid
the reason behind every cigarette i've wanted to smoke - was this one about vanity? boredom? curiosity? desire? dessert? fear?
to spend a weekend in the haunted house playing along with ghosts snuggled in a sleeping pile awaiting the three am lights and electricity
it's a strange thing to miss things i never thought i'd think about again because i lived them in a different light; wishing most of it were over sooner and now i'm wishing i could go back and enjoy it in better way all over again, and that is one of the worst ways to miss something...when i didn't enjoy it the first time round.
i bet this is what divorce must be like.
04 November 2014
APPALACHIAN SPRING DEATH TAPES
over stimulation
cold drink in the morning
clock tick
dirty hands dirty face
baby powder smell
loud music
spicy food
fine motor (threading needles, zipping bags, drawing, handwriting...)
sleep in total silence (ear plugs)
cover all light at night (darkness)
food, touching
can't eat too much of same food - feels sick
nausea caused by particular sounds
rigid posture
feet to fall asleep
the taste of the rusted forks, the only one who tastes them
the things you realize no one else around you feels everyday
at almost 22.
cold drink in the morning
clock tick
dirty hands dirty face
baby powder smell
loud music
spicy food
fine motor (threading needles, zipping bags, drawing, handwriting...)
sleep in total silence (ear plugs)
cover all light at night (darkness)
food, touching
can't eat too much of same food - feels sick
nausea caused by particular sounds
rigid posture
feet to fall asleep
the taste of the rusted forks, the only one who tastes them
the things you realize no one else around you feels everyday
at almost 22.
02 November 2014
I'D PROBABLY STILL ADORE YOU WITH YOUR HANDS AROUND MY NECK
i always knew you were a reptile! little old you!
why are we even doing this, across the table, broken eye and sunken, thrown to pieces in the car. am i too selfish? or am i someone worse? does it all come down to forgetting my paints in the car, and you coming back to bring them to me?
i can't understand why we come together for death but not for life. someone put paints back in my broken and sunken eyes, forget the broken pieces, the long, too familiar rides across the subway, the mistaken taken photographs of the sunset, the cross shaped pattern on the moncloa station, running and crying through the crosswalk, for. more.
why are we even doing this, across the table, broken eye and sunken, thrown to pieces in the car. am i too selfish? or am i someone worse? does it all come down to forgetting my paints in the car, and you coming back to bring them to me?
i can't understand why we come together for death but not for life. someone put paints back in my broken and sunken eyes, forget the broken pieces, the long, too familiar rides across the subway, the mistaken taken photographs of the sunset, the cross shaped pattern on the moncloa station, running and crying through the crosswalk, for. more.
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