Sunday, April 22, 2012 at 9:03 pm | Posted in Life | Leave a comment
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Some days you hate everyone
some days you wish you were someone else
some days you wish you were somewhere else
some days you think people should shut the fuck up
that is all.


Random musings from last year.

Thursday, January 19, 2012 at 4:18 pm | Posted in Life | Leave a comment
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It feel nice to be sitting in here, all alone, surrounded by all these people who have purpose. I have a purpose, just not right at this moment, but I don’t feel bad about it right now. Which is really good…I don’t really remember the last time I didn’t feel good sitting at a coffee shop – at least one that looked like this one. This one has a really warm feeling…you know where the furniture doesn’t match and the decoration doesn’t really make sense but it all goes together to create the perfect feeling. There’s also a mural. Also, the ceiling is amazing here and it has all these dark wood accents – basically my kind of place and the closest I’m going to get to feeling like I’m sitting in Paris – although, I have no idea how Paris actually feels like. But, I can imagine and as you can imagine, I have to rely on that quite a bit.

I always imagine that once I get to Paris… I’ll sit outside at a cafe in Paris and people-watch or read a book while sipping champagne or coffee with some delectable french pastry. I have these flights of fancy all the time – there’s one that takes place in Italy. I ride a bike, wearing a gorgeous summer-dress, with a flower-basket that has fresh picked wildflowers. I’m such a cliche and most of the time, I love it. I just realized that I went off on a tangent. I was going to talk about the kind of book I would be reading while sitting at a cafe. Something I never read now, but I always wanted to you know…like Fitzgerald, Joyce or Edgar Allen Poe – I always have to say his whole name, it’s a great name isn’t it? The last time I read one of these authors was in high school, it’s a depressing state of affairs when it comes to reading. I’ve read some recent stuff, books that came out in the last two decades and lots of fashion magazines, but no classics.

I can’t believe I’ve written all this right now. Usually, I have a horrible time writing. Sometimes I get struck by inspiration and I’ll write a ‘poem.’ But, in general writing hasn’t come easy in the past few years. I’m still surprised though at the amount of poetry I’ve written. I used to think it was impossible. The first poem I wrote, at least as far as I can remember, was during the senior year of high school. It was horrible. it took forever to come to me, but it was the worst thing ever. All the other students wrote such brilliant, insightful things. Which makes me realize that I’m a late bloomer. Usually people get all “angsty” during their high school year, and of course I had my moments, but I don’t remember ever dwelling so much on it. I’m much more in my head since I finished college. I haven’t accomplished most of what I thought would have by time I reached the twenty-five year mark. The last three years have been spent in an on and off depressed state, which coincides with the writing and poems. God, I always feel like this is all I talk about. But, this is pretty much all I think about…so again with the sense-making, once I’ve thought it through.


Thanksgiving and Santa Barbara.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011 at 2:55 am | Posted in Food, Life | Leave a comment
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Here are a few pictures of my Thanksgiving table, without all the food on it. Also, pictures of my trip to Santa Barbara.

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Tuesday, November 15, 2011 at 2:01 am | Posted in Gyan, Humor, Life, Poetry | 1 Comment
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It feels like magic when I blow out a candle flame
and I smile a little smile when I see pictures of carousels
and I get nostalgic for something undefined when it’s cloudy, windy and about to rain
and violins pull my strings, bringing tears and shivers
and a lot of the times I speak without thinking, at least not too much
and when the cracks on my skin catch the light, it makes me think of when I’ll be old, older
and I like and, it’s a good conjunction

I feel like being a little silly right now
and I’ll laugh at myself when I say sunshine and potatoes
that was an inside joke between Jasmine and me
I’m wondering right now if ‘me’ should go before ‘Jasmine’
or if there’s supposed to be an ‘I’ instead
I don’t feel like looking it up right now, but I think I wrote it correctly
so I think I’ll just leave it
sometimes I just like to ramble
and hope someone gets the point
and sometimes they do
and sometimes so do I



Wednesday, October 19, 2011 at 12:15 am | Posted in Life, Poetry | Leave a comment
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I’m holding it all in
until I’m alone
because I’m already a burden
I don’t need to do this now
unburden myself in front of my bearers

it becomes easier with time
there’s only a hint of moisture
a glisten under the lashes
it might be a reflection of light

but I don’t want it to become easier
and I don’t want to be a burden anymore
or even before
but I am
so I wait and I hold it all in
until I’m all alone


Conversation between Friends.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011 at 4:10 pm | Posted in Food, Fun, Life, Poetry | Leave a comment
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Jasmine and I
we went to the city
a long time ago
a week ago
and we sat on the train
and we had vanilla lattes
and oatmeal raisin cookies
and paninis
with the best barbeque sauce
and pizza made by Shawn

We talked about cereal
and garbage
the city at night,
clothes and shoes
old buildings in Europe
and books,
the ones we’ll write
about stupid things
the future
the present and the past
and what ifs and we should have
done that
about other cities we should have gone to
should go to
could go to
can’t right now
maybe someday

and that’s where it ends and
maybe someday
maybe one day
that’s what we talked about
and maybe tomorrow
most likely
we’ll figure it out
all of it
some of it
maybe none of it
during one of these conversations



Friday, September 9, 2011 at 10:59 pm | Posted in Life, Poetry | 2 Comments
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I’ve been here before haven’t I?
they call it déjà vu
it’s French
they have the prettiest words, don’t they?

I’ve felt this before, this feeling
this kind of emptiness
in my stomach
where you think maybe something is missing,
like a part
do they have a word for that?
that encompasses all that emptiness in your entrails
that was an alliteration
those are pretty too, aren’t they?

I’ve thought all this before, haven’t I?
and I’ve written it down too,
in different words
but it never seems enough
you can always find more words
more, more, more
but more words don’t fill those empty spaces
they don’t become the missing parts
of my puzzle.


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