In morning when I have a little extra time -
I’m waiting for my toast and waffles to finish, and I have music playing from my phone, and I think to myself, what a pretty picture I would be, if I were the type of person to drink black coffee and to smoke cigarettes.. I would be sitting here, a quiet and still morning, waiting for my toast and waffles, sipping on my black coffee with a cigarette placed delicately between my fingers, listening to death cab and lost in my own thoughts.
But I don’t drink much coffee and don’t smoke cigarettes.

I had a dream that I had light blue eyes. Probably contacts or something. But suddenly everyone liked me a lot more. And people kept telling me how pretty I was.

the perception of time by the human race is limited to the speed at which we can think and process our surroundings, which is limited by the pace of the neurons firing in our brains. what if there was an even faster system in another kind of organism that we don’t know about, who experience time thousands or millions of times faster than we do, so that their entire life span happens in a fraction of a second (human time), so that at the very moment they exist on our earth, we can clap - and they’re gone, poof, just like that, having lived their entire lives faster than our brains can process.

same with the other way around - creatures that live so slowly, that entire generations go by without us being aware that they are there, living among us, just experiencing time so much slower so that their lives could maybe span over millennium or more. perhaps what we think of as the ocean floor or as mountains are actually alive, and to them we are just dust swirling in the wind, now here and then gone. 

the silence is a loud and piercing ringing in my ears
write your essay, i tell myself
get off the couch. do something. 
i’m so thankful. i’m full of thanks. 
but i am also full of wistfulness 
and sometimes a calm sadness, of missing someone i once spent all my time with
but now there are different people, and it’s a new day.

Nothing stays the same, not the good nor the bad

How do I say… My life is falling apart without it sounding like an overreaction to minor problems? I asked her that. How do you comfort a young teenager after her first heartbreak? Do you say, it gets better, or it gets worse? How do you comfort a college student after they fail a test? Tell them, this is so far from the worse thing that will happen to you in life? And if you feel so bad now, how do you think you’ll handle the problems to come? So wipe that frown off your face and smile because no one is dying and you’re not in debt and you have a roof over your head and food in your stomach.

She speaks in sorry sentences
Miraculous repentances
I don’t believe her

Tomorrow, he will come to me
and speak his sorrows endlessly
and he’ll ask me why,
Why can’t I leave her?

winter, 2012-2013

The first thing I saw…
I’ll say it again and again
It’s funny, almost
Morbidly anti-romantic
soap operatic 

a little girl’s song

Oh, I’m gonna go to New Mexico
And no one will know where I went
And every moment spent will be my own.

Oh, I’m gonna buy me a rusted old pick up truck
Weathered and beaten but pretty, like me
And everyone in the town will see that I’m fine

Fat huckleberries and sunflower seeds
And corn by the roadside I’ll sell,
And it will all be just as well, because I am grown

Oh, I’m gonna go to New Mexico
And no one will know where I am
My secret evil plan for being alone

Yellow tomatoes and sugar-snap peas
And more by the roadside I’ll sell,
And it will all be just as well, because I am home

Oh, I’m gonna go to New Mexico
And no one will know where I flew
'Cause a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do,


There was a moment when he said it was the last time we would play together and my eyes got a little bit wet, but I didn’t let the tears fall.

I never let the tears fall, for any of the boys I’ve loved, but one lingered in the corner of my eye on the window seat of the subway on the way to school, listening to the songs we had sung together. 


A story in which nothing happens; 
Only the trees grow, the wind blows. 
A story in which time trundles on, endless and unstoppable. Tragedies happen and happiness occurs, but what of it? 
Time goes on, the grass withers and rises, and the sun continues to shine.