How can I be still?
The scent of blood orange
in the kitchen, half-eaten,
warms me to the color of sunset

I have been restless,
restless and voracious, walking
barefoot through the garden,
my lips stained with the blood
of those blood-colored lips

It is July, the afternoon bruised
and distended with its own heat
Wisps of winter-white tendril from
the fruit I place in my mouth, and
I am convinced nothing could be

nothing gold can stay

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
-Robert Frost

diary excerpts pt. ii
august 2015 – december 2015

august 3rd – “Everything is fleeting. Everything fades. And this moment – this hour, this day, this time – it won’t come again. This is all we have – a fragment of glass in the sand, the sparkling water under the bright bright sun. Nothing, not even the ocean or the clouds or the power and conviction of love can last forever. Everything fades; everything ends. Everything leaks through the cracks between your fingers. It’s future rust and it’s future dust.”


august 5th – “Social anxiety is really a huge pain in the ass, and as much as I’d like to not give a shit, I can’t help it – can’t get over it – can only really be myself when I’m only with myself. But at least I’m writing out in public which is the first step. I also have the strong urge to walk to Au Bon Pain and get a snack or something. I’ve always had this mental image of sitting in a Parisian café scribbling down poetry and drinking black coffee. My current reality is sitting in the back of Au Bon Pain after work, eating a toffee cookie and trying not to get crumbs in the margins of my notebooks. I once read a quote that said poets in yellow would be preposterous – but why shouldn’t a poet wear yellow? It brightens everything – it makes you feel like you have a bit of the sun in you. I’d gladly be a poet in yellow.”

august 8th – “Life is very immense and I want to capture the slow gravity of everything like water pooling around my ankles. It is August and heat shimmers around everything and the colors dip their feet tentatively in the pool of the sky. Tilt and tilt – it is midnight and the stars wink out at you, friendly and alive and burning and unassuming. You’ve got an airplane heart about to take off and I have pages and pages to fill with the lovely star clusters of dreams.”

august 9th – “The phrase ‘Back to School’ drives the stake of dread into the pit of my heart.”


august 11th – “Where does the wind blow when it’s afraid of the trees? Who sings the songs that the angels sing, and who dances the dance of the devil? When we are all rust and dust, will you be there to calm the frenzy of my decaying bones? Love is the antidote to everything, I think – it is what makes life worth living; I am very sleepy…”

august 20th – “I don’t like noise, but some people – my mother, for instance – have the need to to always be listening to or creating some noise. Maybe it’s because they’re afraid of their own silences.”

august 21st – “Today was my last day of volunteering. It was raining in the morning and we had to take the train. Thank God Dad is such a practical, reliable person and had an umbrella on him. We walked together in the rain through the damp, soggy streets and past oily, polluted puddles where raindrops fell in perfect concentric circles.

I told J how much I enjoyed working there and he told me how much of a help I had been to him, which is nice to hear. He took a selfie of us to send to his mom, whom he’d told about me, and then we said our goodbyes and he left to see the Meryl Streep movie. It was all rather rushed. Afterwards I felt empty. I sat in the lobby for some time drinking my peach iced tea and then I peed and then I sat around again, doing nothing, feeling the gravity of the realization that I would never see these people again. Sometimes people come into and out of the doors of our lives just in a flash, like big gusts of wind that blow through and ruffle pages and then when they leave, the stillness is so sudden and haunting. I wish it wasn’t like that.”


september 4th – “I feel almost cheated out of life, somehow, or defeated, or without purpose, direction, focus. I feel sick almost – tired of my surroundings, tired of the air here, which is too hot, too still, too stifling. Now I hear the sound of someone in the kitchen, and they will come up here and they will persecute me, hang me, scold me, ask why and for what, demand blood sacrifice, say something. And now that I am back in school I feel more stressed out and bored and harried and lost and alone and tired and misanthropic than ever. Whenever there’s time there’s a need to fill it up. God, I don’t know what to do – I feel half-delirious and there’s a sharp pain behind my forehead, and I feel like I had something profound to say but now it escapes me. There’s thunder rumbling in the distance, and I wish it was still summer so that I could stay up in the dark and listen to the sound of the rain and fall asleep to visions of wonder in my head. Summer always seems to be so infinite and wonderful when you’re in the midst of it, but it always ends too quickly.

september 15th – “I was transported from the garish sunlight of reality into the velvet midnight of love and murder. The night spreads out around me – I gather myself into myself, collecting all the varied ephemera that had drifted away in the day.”

october 19th – “This was the day that I was dreading and now that it is finally over, I am not very relieved. So much work to do still, but at least I got into NHS! – at least that was a nice surprise, even though lately I’ve been on the edge of a razor blade, just waiting to get cut.”

november 11th – “I think I would much rather spend eternity saving the world from evil and chasing after my true love than having to deal with grades and tests and pressure and failure.”

december 25th – “I wish it would snow, I wish it would snow, I wish it would snow…”


a bouquet of clumsy words

rose, salt, teal-grey. the flowers were rotting on the graves, bodies, marshes & fields in the early spring, yellow – mustard yellow, yellow pain(t), fingertips, since feeling is first, violence, blood & violence, stillborn, coruscate, the years, systole, diastole, pestilence, war, chiaroscuro, come them as they will, you you you – my hands, your corrosion, mountains, rise and fall, breathing patterns, things that fluctuate – the tide, ebb and flow, heartbeats, people through doors, fear – terrible fear, fear represented by spiders, hanging by a thread, harshness – harshness of voices, stigmata, blood and nails, midway, your funeral… my trial, murder and heat and it’s always the sun – glaring, blinding, suffocating, mirraging, shifting thoughts and perception – seeing things that aren’t there, points and convergence, isolation, mother i tried please believe me i’m doing the best that i can’t, shame like hot mud which makes you sink into the heat of your own body, even if you’re always looking for a way out, windowless internment, pawns, golden light and silver light – the golden apples of the sun / the silver apples of the moon, my body – its stars stuck in like crystals, like rock salt, miles and miles of shadow which recalls nostalgia, little girl – who do you think you are


endlesstrains @ flickr

do you have a vacancy for a back-scrubber?

so july has come and now it’s going, going, gone. and august is basically a countdown to the end of my life. i envy all you lucky ducks that don’t have to go to school after summer ends, although i bet work is probably worse. or i don’t know – i bet it’s nice if you’re doing what you actually want to be doing. all i could think about today at the lab while watching someone dissect for three hours was “i don’t want to be a doctor i don’t want to be a doctor i don’t want to be a doctor.” there are two other high school girls who volunteer there; both are the “bubbly” type my mother’s always telling me i should be. i love my parents so much it feels like my heart could just burst into a million kaleidoscopic rainbow fragments and i know they love me too and only want the best for me but as jim morrison explains it so well,

“When others demand that we become the people they want us to be, they force us to destroy the person we really are. It’s a subtle kind of murder….the most loving parents and relatives commit this murder with smiles on their faces.”

today was one of those days where it felt like drowning, and there was a constant ache in my throat from trying not to cry. there are days when i’ll be fine in my own little world and then something small will make me feel so horrible about myself and then my brain will start pulling up every other bad thing or negative feeling in my life. sometimes people with depression talk about how they feel empty, and there are times when i do feel empty but most of the time i feel everything so intensely and sensitively and vividly that i can’t figure out if my emotions are valid enough. they feel valid to me – they’re real and they’re raw and i can physically feel them from my chest but the things that cause them seem so trivial. anyway, the good part about all this feeling things intensely is that i appreciate things like clouds more than i think the average person does. i’m glad clouds exist. sometimes i wish i were a cloud; i think it would be nice to be a cloud.


inthisrealityortheother @ tumblr

summer haze & summer days

summer always seems to come and go just like a wonderful surreal daydream, like quick bright patches of sunlight passing over the walls. when it’s somewhere in the middle of july, it feels like there’s never been any other reality but this: slow, dreamlike, warm, and slightly sluggish. i love every season when it’s starting or at its prime; i love autumn with its rain and yellowredorange leaves and the petrichor and rich earthy colors, and i love winter when there’s five feet of untouched snow and it comes down in big, white, fluffy flakes and i can stand looking out of the front door pretending i’m in an elevator heading straight for the clouds, and i love spring only after all the snow has melted and all the leaves are budding, but summer is different. i always love all of summer because it means not having to be constantly stressed and worrying all the time and actually having some time to think. usually i spend most of my summers lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling or looking out the window pretending that i’m on a puffy white cloud sailing through the endless drowning blue of the sky. however, this summer’s been a bit different because i’ve been busy working at a lab, and i’ve been learning so much (mostly about coping with my social anxiety and figuring out how to interact with people, even if i dread the thought of being forced to go into medicine and having to dissect rats and become a doctor).

a list of things that remind me of summer: the virgin suicides, midnight thunderstorms, songs i used to love years ago, the great gatsby, “trees” by joyce kilmer, the dreamers, shoegaze, patches of sunlight on wooden floors, forsythia

also i’ve changed the theme of this blog and i think i like it better. i’ll be trying to post more often/more things that i’ve been meaning to post within the coming weeks. if you’re reading this, i hope you’re having a lovely summer!

here’s a small playlist i made: