For a long time, I prided myself on being a productive person. I used my spare time efficiently, writing to-do lists and finishing every task on them. I managed my time well and left no room for error. Unfortunately, I’m human, and so errors would come up, and when they would, I would internally combust. Being thrown off schedule and not being productive was worse than death to me. I would struggle immensely if my mind and body were telling me to rest. I would fight it, still try to work through brain fog and period cramps to achieve at least one thing on my to-do list, so at the very least I was a little bit productive. I thought this was admirable, something to be proud of. I’m slowly learning that it was not.Continue reading “The Perils of Productivity”
Queen of frozen forests, her presence reigning in like a chorus.
Queen of frozen forests, bearing her eye of Horus.
Queen of frozen forests, ready for her performance.
But queen of frozen forests knew she could not restore us.Continue reading “Queen of Frozen Forests”
I truly don’t believe there is such a thing as “right person, wrong time.” This is an age-old debate that brings up numerous perspectives and opinions, all of which are intriguing and valid. I have just never gelled with the idea that you can meet a person who theoretically ticks off all your boxes and the only thing standing in your way is “timing.”Continue reading “Right Person, Wrong Time?”
Reaching the lowest lows gives you a different appreciation for the highs. When you’ve truly looked rock bottom in the eyes, nothing or nobody can take that away from you, no matter what heights and accolades you reach. It’s a deeply personal place for everyone, wall to wall full of your mistakes, your shadows and the parts of yourself that were never nurtured. Once you’ve genuinely had a long stay in this place, cleaned up the cobwebs and dusted a little, is when you can leave triumphed and forever changed.Continue reading “The Taste of Rock Bottom”
To step into myself
is uncharted territory.
To feel safe
is an unread part of the story.Continue reading “Rediscovery”
I come from a big, artistic, eccentric family. I grew up around painters and instrumentalists, tarot card readers and poets. Creativity looked very specific to me. Creativity was reserved for those who could swipe paint onto canvases and awe their audiences. It was reserved for those who could pick up an instrument and play a soulful tune with ease. Creativity was a label you earned, never something you could claim yourself. Creativity looked like passion and excellence. I had none of this.Continue reading “To Live is to Create”
I would rather people just be enigmas to me. Just ideas, just figments of what I can conjure up in my mind; they stay better that way. They respond how I need them to. Their past doesn’t get in the way. It’s just smoke and mirrors. I prefer people that way.Continue reading “Smoke and Mirrors”
There is all the joy in the world to be found in the inconspicuous, seemingly meaningless intricacies of regular life. I am a devout advocate for enjoying the small, in-between moments. I refuse to be the adult who counts down to the weekend, to their vacation days, to some irrelevant time in the future. I refuse to have societal blinders on so tight that I can’t appreciate the simplicity in front of me everyday.Continue reading “Freshly Fallen Snow and Viscous Vanilla Scents”
I heard the incessant tapping on my window. Not again, I groaned internally. I turned over onto my side and grabbed a pillow to squash over my head in hopes of drowning out the noise. Tap, tap, tap. It wasn’t letting up. I peeked at the clock sitting on my dresser a few feet away. 2:06am. Unbelievable, I thought to myself. Same time every night! Frustrated, I whipped my blankets off of me and aggressively drew my curtains. A large, indistinguishable black mass was hovering outside my window. It freaked me out the first time, but I’ve gotten used to it now. I banged on the window in an attempt to scare it off. It just slowly lapped in the air, like small waves. Well, fuck, I thought. I’m not getting rid of this thing. I turned over to sleep.Continue reading “On the Fragility of Life”
This year, I got a taste of a type of introspection even I am not used to.
This year, I have lived (and am still living through) a global pandemic. I must admit, the lockdowns and closures did not drastically change my way of life. A true introvert, guilty as charged. But, assimilating into keeping our distance from everyone, even loved ones, wearing masks in public-I adopted these practices without a second thought. When I started dreaming about forgetting my own mask when going out and being confronted at work with people without one was when I realized that this entire pandemic has scarred me deeper than I’d like to admit. I’m beyond grateful that everyone close to me is healthy, but the amount of microtraumas we are all experiencing, along with the mass amount of death, makes me weary for us. We have much undoing for ourselves in this decade. Yet, I am oddly hopeful.Continue reading “This Year”