it's 6AM and it doesn't matter
because the smell of fresh baked goods
beckons me to the kitchen table
Sunlight peaks over the fence
catching the dew drops in the grass
and giving me a reason to go out onto the porch
a cool breeze tells me it will be a drizzly day
and for now I enjoy the hug that the hammock offers
a cat rubs against my leg and then lets me know it wants to be let inside
I open the door for the cat and listen as
Astrid hums a song by "The Red Hot Chili Peppers"
while she feeds her cats and calls them sweet German names
that I can't remember properly because the cats look exactly the same to me
Bright blocks of color on the walls surround me as I sit down at the table
spreading preserves on a piece of pretzel bread delivered to the doorstep
this morning at 4AM by the local bakery while we all slept soundly
I breathe in the smell of coffee, comfort, and home.
This house and the people who dwell in it -
I carry not just in my memory,
I carry them in my heart.
selflessness for me
meant not asking myself: what is it that I want?
selflessness for me
meant not thinking the thoughts that were lurking in the confines of my mind
shoved in a corner like those boxes you never quite got around to unpacking.
selflessnes for me
has been putting others first for so long that I don't even know what I need.
"The essential thought is found in the work of the Greek poet Hesiod (c. 700 bc), 'observe due measure; moderation is best in all things', and of the Roman comic dramatist Plautus (c. 250–184 bc), 'moderation in all things is the best policy."
It took some time for me to realize,
seflessness in its best form happens when I am in my best form.
Kindness to others should come after we are kind to ourselves.
In order to be selfless in its most wholesome form,
I have to know who I am, what I need, and only then I can be the best version of myself.
"moderation is best in all things"
TO: the person I’ve never let myself love
I've always wanted to tell you,
I can imagine kissing every inch of your soul
and being consumed by you
The yearning I feel for it frightens me -
I run from it.
never quite creating the reality
in which everything I desire can take place
I guess I am a masochist.
You are an entire world I haven't let myself explore.
I would say I am sorry for it,
but you don't even know it
because I've never told you.
In the past few days
my mind was full of
that had become dread
that became the noise
inside of my head
I didn’t realize
it could be
to listen to
what my mind
tries to tell me
I quit speaking to you. 3 days ago.
a piece of my heart
had been slowly cracking,
it finally fell
from the whole.
It was finding the silence that helped me realize the noise. It’s clear now that I was doing everything I could to hang on to a connection that I knew shouldn’t be.
There is great power in listening to what my mind needs, and then applying it to my life.
I am grateful for this ability, and will do my best to use it as a positive force in the universe.
And that means,
of my life.
time to eat.
I mix the cookie dough with a calm pleasure,
measuring carefully as the amounts are especially important to get right on this day.
Time to bake.
I walk through my home,
this pleace is beautiful and bursting at its seams with memories.
We did a good job, I think to myself.
When he died I never thought I’d truly live again,
but then life was kind to me.
I sign the letters to our kids,
place the stamps deliberately,
and walk outside to our mailbox.
The day is a beautiful one, a dry 70 F.
I am surrounded by life in varying shades of green.
We chose a good place to call home, love.
I come back inside to the smell of ooey gooey chocolate chip cookes,
still my favorite after all of these years.
I pull the cookies out and set them one by one on the cooling rack. While I wait for them to cool I light a pre-roll, I only buy pre-rolls now as my hands aren’t what they used to be.
I sit back in my lawn chair and enjoy the sky.
I wish you were here my sweet.
It’s almost time, I think.
I put the cookies on a plate and take them outside to enjoy with my smoke.
It’s time to write. With a heavy pen, I write the very last thing I ever will write. I seal the note in an envelope.
I polish off the cookies one by one, until my belly is full and my eyes begin to droop. Before it’s too late, I dial 9-1-1. I light my joint to smoke one last time.
The note is all they’ll need to understand that this is my goodbye.
“This isn’t the time to fight. They’ve caught it too late and at this point in my life, I am ready to die. To die, like this, of my own volition is the only way I can bear to say Goodbye.”
I let my eyes close and drift off to sleep.
A logophile is what you first called me,
sauntering away with cool confidence
while I stared, mouth agape,
at our first exchange.
I think about you when it rains.
I pull the blanket more tightly around myself,
thinking of you in this way,
makes my body ache
I think about you when it rains.
You came out to join me,
on the balcony
I’ve always loved to watch storms,
but this one, you watched with me.
Your hands wrapped around me,
You hugged me from behind
so we both could still see
the sound of the thunder
struck me with awareness -
the sad knowing that soon you’d have to go
Far enough away that things would
It’s one of my fondest memories
of you and me
with quiet sorrow
I think about you when it rains.
Log Entry #38
I see the world around me as nothing more than a multitude of things to obliterate.
The sight of the rubble filled me with such satisfaction. Another thing destroyed by my own hand. Before I could walk away from the mess I made I met someone. She was astonished by my work. She seems a fascinating being. I think she may just be the right fit for me, she is Reparation. We made plans for tonight.
I am filled with excitement at the prospect of something new. She just got off work and is heading here now, will write more later.
Log Entry #39
Sorry I haven’t written in awhile. It’s been fun getting to know Reparation. When we aren’t hard at work fulfilling our purposes we are with eachother.
I destroy and she rebuilds. It’s beautiful, us enabling eachother do what we do best.
The novelty of a new connection never ceases to fill me with joy and curiosity but most importantly, hope.
Log Entry #40
Reparation left today. I feel hollow. It’s impossible to fight my innate desire to destroy, I am blinded by this desire. Perhaps I should give in? Will ponder this.
The search must continue as still I yearn to find my solution. It’s painful thought isn’t it? What if I try again and fail? This fear debilitates me, I don’t want to hurt anymore.
Reparation taught me alot, she was stunning and such an optimist. Always saw a way to take my destruction and build it back up into something new. But, we got caught in an increasingly negative feedback loop as illfitted partners do. She grew weary of cleaning up my inevitable messes and I grew increasingly ashamed of my lack of ability to change.
It was heartbreaking. I couldn’t bare to watch her walk away along with my hope for a solution, so I didn’t. Coward!
Log Entry #41
Had to get a new computer after I destroyed my last one or I’d have written sooner. I am filled with questions as of late:
Is there a solution searching for a problem like me? Could there be one? Or am I destined to wander this existence in solitude?
Isolation is so much more lonely when it feels like my only option.
Reparation was the first time I felt hope in awhile. Regeneration was fun, but we ended up doing the same things over and over again - it got old quickly. Protection and I had a quick fling but it was obvious that we were opposites in all of the wrong ways.
Eh, it hurts to revisit these relationships that I was inevitably the demise of. It’s getting late anyway, going to rest now.
Log Entry #42
I know, it’s been awhile. I spiralled out a bit. Didn’t feel much like writing. I took some time to be with myself, to destroy without fear. By doing this, I went further than I ever have. I am convinced it was doing this that lead her to me.
My solution has found me. I know with every fiber of my being that she is what I have been searching for. I am empty no more.
She is life, she is light, she is everything that I am not. She is Creation.
I am resolved.
The earth feels moist in my hands as I pat the soil down, this plant needed tending to.
It’s a piece of ginger root I planted some time ago its sprouts are now strong and tall and green.
As I continue to pat the soil down I realize a lesson I’ve been learning for the past few years starting from this point in my past:
After picking bad people to surround myself I decided I no longer needed friends.
I’d alienated my family.
I was alone.
I’d been violated and worse than that, I’d starting finding ways to hurt myself further.
Isolating myself was just one more step in this direction.
I bought plants because some blog somewhere said this can help with depression.
I woke up, I went to work, I came home, I went to sleep.
I hardly ate, I was barely alive and nothing more.
the plants began to die.
Splotchy yellow leaves, drooping with the weight of poor care.
I couldn’t even take care of myself but I was determined to take care of these damn plants.
So, I watered them, worked to bring them back to life - these plants became my purpose.
My plants started to grow again, still traumatized but alive.
I quit my miserable job. I studied my ass off to pass a test in order to get the job I wanted.
I failed that test 3 times.
Still, my plants were beginning to thrive.
Eventually after much failure and then a final success I got the job.
I made friends, good friends.
I met good humans. The kind of friends who shine light on the pieces of myself I’ve refused to see, the kind of friends who helped me learn how love me.
My plants were lonely I realized, so I bought more - the collection growing slowly over time.
I began to eat more, to stretch more, to breathe more.
I broke up with my boyfriend. He was a piece of shit.
Still, I held onto my plants. I’d put too much time and effort in to let them die now. I’d invested in them the same way I began investing in myself.
I got my own place, plants and all.
I found myself.
All of my yellow splotchy, wilting leaves began to fall. I was growing anew.
Love found its way into my life.
I take care of my plants, I take care of myself.
As I pat down the soil of this plant I am reminded, all of my trauma is a part of me.
Just like this plant that is now 5 years old, I too can come back from the brink of death, I too can live again.
Not just live but thrive.
The thing about ginger root is, after you plant it you don’t see a sprout for a few weeks to a few months. You can’t check to see if the roots are growing or you’ll risk jeopardizing the plant. You have to water it, give it light, and wait.
I thrive now because I invested in myself and I never lost hope that one day I’d emerge from the Earth and keep growing, never stopping in my pursuit of light.
terrible at haiku’s I just miss you...
I admire you for just a moment,
your eyes tracking the beauty you find
but they were never seeking to find it in mine.
expressions of affection,
declarations of love,
but it’s not thoughts of me that fill your mind.
nobody else’s you want me to be,
the pain of care that’s unrequited cuts deeply.
the more I detach,
the harder you tug,
pulling the line you used to bait me.
Never yours but nobody else’s either.
Now you hold her and speak with me,
of all of the things you wish she’d be,
While I wish it could’ve been me.
She is everything to you I wished I could’ve been.