growing up is about taking ownership of who we are and who we want to be
Sunday, March 18, 2012
i believe that
growing up is about taking ownership of who we are and who we want to be
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
photography and memory
what happens to the moments that are not captured in photographs?
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Saturday, October 1, 2011
conversations with my love
"I wonder what it'd be like dating an artsy/literary type of guy... Probably horrible."
"Why?"
"Well, those types are filled inner turmoil. Very angsty at times. Too much to handle some days"
"Kind of like you?"
"Exactly."
"Why?"
"Well, those types are filled inner turmoil. Very angsty at times. Too much to handle some days"
"Kind of like you?"
"Exactly."
Friday, September 16, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Oh so safe
After getting on the flippy Ferris wheel thingy at the busker carnival:
"It's swinging. Why?! Make it stop now"
"I can't do anything"
"Okay, fine. but we're safe, right? It smells like it's burning.. that's not safe"
"Yes, we're safe, darling"
"I want off. Look, I can't breathe"
*laughs* "We can't. Not yet. A few more spins"
*screaming and general trauma ensues*
An hour after we got off:
"Can we go again?!"
Friday, August 26, 2011
Minor interruptions
"Trust me", he said. But it wasn't his voice.
A flood of words, flashbacks, and a touch that chains.
The ebb and flow of memory.
Shaking... I cling to myself, to this moment, to him.
In a matter of seconds I come right back up, breathing,
and almost unharmed.
A flood of words, flashbacks, and a touch that chains.
The ebb and flow of memory.
Shaking... I cling to myself, to this moment, to him.
In a matter of seconds I come right back up, breathing,
and almost unharmed.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
pearls and a red dress
I sat across from you at that Greek restaurant and you told me your secrets.
Between us: years, a candle, a plate of olives, and a bottle of pinot noir.
I listened long enough to know that the words were fragile but not long enough to realize I would give them back.
Between us: years, a candle, a plate of olives, and a bottle of pinot noir.
I listened long enough to know that the words were fragile but not long enough to realize I would give them back.
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