Bring me your pain, love. Spread
it out like fine rugs, silk sashes,
warm eggs, cinnamon
and cloves in burlap sacks. Show me
the detail, the intricate embroidery
on the collar, tiny shell buttons,
the hem stitched the way you were taught,
pricking just a thread, almost invisible.
Unclasp it like jewels, the gold
still hot from your body. Empty
your basket of figs. Spill your wine.
That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it,
cradling it on my tongue like the slick
seed of a pomegranate. I would lift it
tenderly, as a great animal might
carry a small one in the private
cave of the mouth.
things I highly recommend doing! (just not all in one day and on five hours of sleep):
-running a half marathon
-attending three classes (though I don’t recommend they all be one on top of the other with 10-15 minute dashes in between, as these ones were)
-helping your friend make a short film
this world has too many good people in it to waste your time on people who can’t give you theirs. friendship comes in many forms, but it also hides behind many facades, and there are motives, motives, motives lying everywhere, haphazardly, indistinguishable until they’re not. and when they’re not - ah! it’s so simple to give myself the advice I should have been giving myself for the past 21 years, really, especially when the advice sounds so simple in words: don’t give your time to people who don’t give you theirs. I grapple with this all the time, because I admire so many people, but I admire them for reasons external to our personal relationship and the realities of how they invest in that. stay alert to those who genuinely care about you, because they deserve your time far, far more. appreciate those people. at times when they seem the most rare, they are also the most precious.
“to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.”
"The Thing Is," Ellen Bass (via commovente)
just ate spinach empanadas at the house of my professor whose last class compared foucault’s power dynamics to the screwdriver episode of orange is the new black. also got coffee with my best friend at a coffee shop we are making it our goal to frequent. glad summer came back this weekend to remind us how we wish it could last longer, sun rays burning into red bricks decorated with green climbing vines, and windows better when wider and opening onto west village streets
life updates in list form (this blog is becoming as unmaintained as a wild garden, but I’m trying to sustain it with occasional, pointless writing)
- this thursday, it will have been one month since I last ate meat. and I haven’t told my parents I’m vegetarian. and I probably will wait for them to figure it out, much like when my sister got her belly button pierced on a trip to australia, and my dad only figured it out when she came downstairs in a crop top
- five weeks to go until I run a marathon (!!!), and I don’t know what I’m doing.
- for three weeks now, my roommate and I have been moving into the apartment. we got an armchair today, and yes - we have taken things off the side of the road (the east village is a very generous place, I am finding). also, ikea furniture is likely the most frustrating thing I have ever had to deal with (only a slight exaggeration), and now I get why people have assembling parties with wine………because you need wine to cope
- you also, apparently, need screwdrivers. newsflash! wasn’t prepared for that in any way, whatsoever
- the italian is as rusty as ever, but my french is making its way back into my consciousness, many thanks to medieval literature
- on fridays, I have a four hour cinema class, aka I get to watch movies for class once a week
- I am terrified at how quickly a month has passed, accentuating the fact that this is my last year of college. and life after college doesn’t seem real - it was never a time I thought about, and I still can’t really wrap my head around that concept. but as much as I am desperately clinging to whatever threads are remaining and attaching me to my fleeting youth, I am happy to say that I have fallen back in love with life on the cusp of miracles in this city again