Tag: feelings

Unspoken Words

smalltownhumanbeingLeave a comment

I can not even count the times I have wanted to reach out to you, scrolled through my contacts to find your number, went to type out a message I never sent, or looked at old pictures and felt an urge to speak to you again. But I remained silent and kept the words unspoken. I’ve wanted to tell you how much I’ve missed you in these last six months. There is not a day that goes by where I do not think of you… But recently you’ve been living in my mind much much more.

Recently everything has reminded me of you. I see images of us from a year ago to the date, hear your name in conversation, or see things we would have shared with each other and something tells me I must speak to you again. But instead, I keep the words unspoken, although there’s this feeling deep in me that we need to speak once again and that something will bring us back.

My unspoken words consist of these thoughts for the most part; you rapidly became the most significant person in my life, and for that, I’ll forever be grateful for, but the day we stopped speaking a little part of me began to crumble. You took a part of me with you when you evaporated from my life. You were part of my daily routine, we spoke every day from the second we woke up, to when we would lie our heads on the pillow each night. We shared some of our highest highs and lowest lows together, and always made an effort to check in and see how we both were feeling. You being gone felt like I was missing my other half. You were my person.

These unspoken words have given me the chance to reflect on how I feel, and what drove us apart. I understand why you had to leave, but I do not accept it, and if I am being honest I probably never will. But I am slowly becoming okay with that, with the idea that you are in fact gone, weather that be for now or for forever.

I still often wonder how you are doing though, and I check in on you from afar. I only hope that you are doing as well as you used to be, and you are carrying on. I hope you still have the call for adventure, and a sparkle of mischief in your blue eyes. But I miss you more than you’ll ever know. I miss us, our adventures, late night conversations, and most of all I miss my best friend. I hope we cross paths one day in the future, for you will always hold captive a large part of my heart.

Photo credit: Pintrest.com

Rain

pinkcube18Leave a comment

Cold winter days often seem to fall short of the media’s predictions. We scheduled an early departure from school in anticipation of dangerous storms, though we’re met with trickles of water creating small puddles in dry dirt.

I tend to dress dramatically for the cold. I wear two pears of socks, two jackets, and keep a spare pair of gloves in my backpack. I prefer to overheat than freeze from the brisk winds. My wardrobe has many jackets, though only one of them I have deemed warm enough for January weather.

Although the cold is difficult, I do hope for adventure’s sake that we experience more rain. I keep my prized umbrella tucked away in my backpack, waiting for the day when I can use it again. I enjoy the trek from classroom to classroom as I use my umbrella as a shield from the harsh sky. February is likely to bring more rain, and I won’t put my umbrella away until the sun is revealed.

Image Credit: Ali Berman

Falling?

smalltownhumanbeingLeave a comment

So I found myself looking deep in the eyes of a green eyed boy with dark hair and an illuminating smile and felt the corners of my moth turn upwards on their own.

What is this feeling? I tend to know what feelings rush through my body, but this human has created a new, different, unusual feeling. There is no sort of nervous fear or butterflies, there is just this comfortable glow surrounding the green eyed boy.

Am I finding myself falling…?

Falling for what you ask? Well simply put, I do not know. The only thing I can relate to the feeling of the green eyed boy is falling.

It is not a bad sort of falling, but rather a floating or soaring, but weightless none the less.

I think I am okay with this new feeling entering my body, but I am still very perplexed by the unknown sense that looking into the green eyes of the boy with the dark brown hair and illuminating smile brings to me.

Image credit: https: //www.shutterstock.com/

You are Alive

horseman69Leave a comment

In a difficult situation, rather than recognizing my own mistake, I tend to look for the wrong in other people. The inertia of others would oftentimes disappoint me. However, I don’t think anyone is really wrong. 

Sometimes you don’t see the flaw in yourself. My best friend Ce is just like me, he often tells me that he is disappointed by this or that person. As an outsider to his problems, I see the flaw perfectly—we place our expectations too high. With a high expectation, feeling disappointed becomes easy. 

This scenario doesn’t just apply to Ce and me, it’s a situation that everyone is facing right now. With the raging coronavirus, limiting our freedom and space, one can only feel disappointed from the news and the inertia of others. However, I urge you to think about life, to appreciate the fact that you’re alive and well and not the medics who wear only scarfs on their faces to fend off the virus.

To be more content with your current situation means that you have to have a low expectation of other people. Just be glad that as of this moment, you, while reading this blog, you are breathing and may have a chance to see tomorrow. 

Photo credit: wallpapertag.com

Paper Cranes

slimjimsilversLeave a comment

Last night I found a stack of colored paper. They were 12″x12″ and dusty from having sat on my shelf for the past three years. I don’t remember why I got them, but I’ve always remembered them being there.

I took them from the shelf and I dropped them on my desk, their purpose still uncertain, and I didn’t expect myself to do anything.

I then proceeded to spend a while doing homework, doing laundry, and preparing dinner. In this time I had forgotten about the stack of papers and allowed myself to get lost in the routine that I had mindlessly adopted over the past month.

When I came back to my desk while going through the motions of cleaning my room which I now do routinely as well, the stack of papers had a new appeal to them. It posed itself as an opportunity to escape my regimen. So I sat down and I flipped through the seven different colors that repeated themselves tirelessly and considered what I could feasibly do.

I never considered myself to be particularly talented or artistic in any way, art classes have always marked themselves as the low points in my grade book. But I was suddenly inspired to do something with them. I knew I couldn’t draw so I eliminated that, my painting skills were on par with my drawing, but folding paper, I was a beast at folding paper.

Photo: Museum of fine arts, St. Petersburg

Now I had never really attempted Origami, but I approached it rather confidently because of my unexpected prowess in the field of paper airplane design. So I went online, and I decided to make a crane.

When I finally completed my first crane about 15 minutes later, it looked decent, and that presented itself as an incredible surprise.

But I had done it, I’d done something that wasn’t typical of me during this drawn-out period of self-isolation, and it was invigorating. I had suddenly found a simultaneous outlet and power I had over the nationwide restrictions.

I was restrained to my home, I had little power in that regard. But nothing could stop me from making those little paper cranes. In the last 12 hours, I have made an embarrassing number of paper cranes but I don’t see an end in sight.

If only I could make them fly.

another diary from the shower

djrendezvous3Leave a comment

SCENE — 7:00am on MONDAY, JANUARY 2020 in OJAI, CA. SHE WAKES UP IN DISTRESS FROM A LONG AND GLORIOUS SLUMBER.

  1. It is absolutely freezing but it’s only 50 degrees.
  2. This shower should only take five minutes. Jump in, jump out.
  3. I found myself praying earlier this week but I don’t remember why.
  4. I find serenity when I look up at a blue sky underneath an oak tree to see the sun peaking through the branches. It reminds me of home.
  5. Gold is definitely my color.
  6. I can wait another day to wash my hair even though it’s been two weeks since my hair has seen shampoo.
  7. Clouds are still wild to me.
  8. There is another bruise… woah.
  9. My body hates me this week.
  10. I wish I was better at sewing.
  11. I love his song “Call it all for nothing, But I’d rather be nothing to you, Than be a part of something, Of something that I didn’t do”
  12. Periwinkle is an underrated color.
  13. I hope they are okay.
  14. I love that feeling of being completely out of breath after climbing up a mountain and getting to look out at the view = the feeling of accomplishment.
  15. Is she okay?
  16. I cannot be that person for her, I need to be that person for myself.
  17. This soap smells divinneee.
  18. There is nothing better than hot water.
  19. I am really gonna miss her.
  20. Jellyfish have a place in my heart.
  21. How long have I been in here?
  22. I really gotta go.
pinterest.com

A Story of Glass, a Family, and Murder

mypetlobster1Leave a comment

“Mom,” said a little boy startled. “They’re back again.”

“I know honey,” she replied.

“Mom,” said a little boy startled. “They’re watching us again.”

“I know honey,” she replied.

“I’m scared,” said the little boy. “I don’t want to be here mama”

“Someday baby, someday we’ll get out of here. Your father will come for us.”

And so they waited, and waited, and waited some more. But he never came and he never would.

Years went by. The boy was no longer little, the mother was no longer strong, and both of them were no longer hopeful.

“Mom,” said a no longer little boy, “we can’t wait any longer, we need to get out of here.”

“No,” she said, “it’s too dangerous. Your father will come for us.”

But the no longer little boy watched his mom’s once shiny black hair turn to grey and he knew that he could wait for his father no longer.

That day, while his mother lay quietly in the grass resting her tired eyes, he grabbed a rock and walked to the glass.

Bang.

Children began to scream.

Bang.

Parents grabbed their kin and began to run away.

Bang.

The mother of the no longer little boy ran after her son but it was too late.

Bang.

Three guards rushed toward the scene.

Bang.

The glass finally began to break.

Bang…

A bullet went through the no longer little boy’s chest.

Bang…

A bullet went through the mother’s chest as she ran towards where her son’s body lay.

Two weeks later the glass was fixed, the zookeepers removed all movable rocks, and two new gorillas filled the place of the deceased mother and son.

Photo credit: cincinnatizoo.org

a reflection on my past.

djrendezvous3Leave a comment

I was recently reflecting on a past assignment that was given to me in middle school. My memory of the prompt is vague but it went along the lines of, “write down your most cherished memories from your life.” I wrote about the experiences that I thought I was going to cherish forever. But now, four years later, I have matured and so have my memories.

I remember going into kindergarten and meeting a girl who I thought would stay in my life forever.

I remember my parents fighting over the phone.

I remember day dreaming all the time.

I remember the smell of summer in the valley and my blonde ringlets.

I remember being alone in my room but being utterly content.

I remember growing up faster than my friends,

isolating myself, being insecure.

And years later, I remember my self-realization.

I remember listening to different music, wearing different clothes, and becoming myself.

As I wrote my “memory list” 6 years ago, I have grown into (what I think) is a more emotionally in-tune woman. These memories are not actual moments from my life but rather feelings and emotions. In thirty years from now, I know I will not remember all the details from my favorite concert or my first crush, but I will retain the feelings that come along with those situations.

“I was talking about time. It’s so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my re-memory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it’s not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it’s gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my re-memory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don’t think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.”

Toni Morrison, Beloved
photo credit: pinterest.com

Pillows

icaruswithwarmwingsLeave a comment

Why do you enjoy reading

people’s screams that live in

Pillows that arent yours?

Is your pillow empty? (it’s not)

Are there screams that are especially beautiful?

And for that matter is there a scale?

or do we just “like” some people’s pain more than other’s or even our own?

Pillows are meant to capture sound

but for me i empty mine out

fun sized pain

spilling on the hardwood floor

you read all that i’ve got

and you sort it however you see fit

and pick and choose

what gets traded

and what gets kept.

Better Down Feather Pillow | The Company Store
Credit: TheCompanyStore

A soapy finger

icaruswithwarmwingsLeave a comment

this soapy ring finger. it slips through

mud

it whirls around the muddy confines

searching for a lost stone. and

its bewildered wide eye clung to my forehead

dragging my gnarly brow over my eye.

but suddenly i feel.

i feel

i feel the roaring

the nashing

the horror

that breaks my blind bones

and for the insinkerator that bites my hand

it gnashes its teeth

and tears into my flesh

Photo Credit: live.staticflickr.com