February 2012
2 posts
7 tags
7 tags
4 tags
saudade
Marrakech, Morocco
It was a quiet limbo, she thought, when you cared too much to tell the truth but not enough to lie. The truth was always passively cruel, without motive or malice, yet sharper, colder, more pervasively unrelenting. She didn’t know what it meant to love, she knew that and could never admit it. A different breed. For her, love was not roses and rose-tinged words and easy...
January 2012
6 posts
10 tags
i got to fold because these hands are just too...
111 Minna Gallery, San Francisco, California
13 tags
17 tags
own it & never look back
When Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated on April 4, 1968, I can only imagine the tremendous emotion, chaos, and disorder that must have erupted—the screams, the tears, the rumbles that shook the ground as the riots erupted for days. Was it anything like the way the ground shook for my father as a child, watching his father, my grandfather, beaten for no reason and publicly humiliated? Born...
7 tags
God is dead but my hair is perfect.
Barcelona, Spain
When I think about traveling, my daydreams feel like flying. The world is so big and so small at the same time. Big enough to get lost in, small enough to explore. So that you have somewhere to go but will never quite know its nature. Home is my heart, but how could I confine myself to the same 300 miles for my entire life?
12 tags
December 2011
4 posts
9 tags
4 tags
7 tags
The Shape Of Despair
She is so in love with him; I can see it in the grooves of her neck as she turns to look at him, and when I ask her about him she mumbles only negatory sounds and says no words.
Though I have known her for years I have never before seen her in love; the softness of her face pulled taut over her bones, the flagging hope in her eyes, like the sweet fleshy crispness of the center of a ripe...
5 tags
as soon as you start thinking about the beginning,...
Cambridge, Massachusetts
November 2011
7 posts
5 tags
There's love, and then there's everything else.
San Francisco, California
8 tags
7 tags
Liquefied
Marrakech, Morocco
When she recalled his face it was only as it was in photographs. She could no longer remember his presence; only his smile as he looked down at her. She felt certain that in another life they must have been in love. Perhaps he had died before his time, long before she did. On his deathbed, he had held her cold fingers and tears in his hands and promised: “I will...
7 tags
11 tags
11 tags
If it has to be done, it has to be done.
Barcelona, Spain
It is not hard work or pain that bothers me but the question of whether giving it all up will be worth it. I don’t mind sacrifice but I am terrified of waste; maggots of fear creeping under my skin, gnawing at the necrotic edges of my dreams. Apprehension, growing steely soft and slow, a sullen song like rain
7 tags
October 2011
5 posts
8 tags
amaniso
What I remember is the way agony suddenly clenched his face. “What happened?” I had asked. He recoiled in a twinge of palpable, physical pain. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Later, over chocolate and whiskey, he revealed a story no less painful despite its quotidianness. He loved her, he trusted her, and she had ridden his train of fidelity and generosity to her...
10 tags
4 tags
dusk comes on and I struggle to stop, to stop to...
Every night, he was in her dreams. Even when she couldn’t remember, she knew it when she woke up to that peculiar stirring of twangy despair mingled with the sweet sense of having felt his presence, like chai tea with too much spice.
Four minutes to four hours to four hundred miles, it made no difference. She could not go to him.
She wanted to sink into him like rain into sand. Her body as...
5 tags
6 tags
100% perfect
Barcelona, Spain
After all this time, I still love this story: On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One April Morning
September 2011
4 posts
4 tags
oh i dont wanna know
Barcelona, Spain
6 tags
the deep unknowability of other people
When I was a child, my teachers always seemed so tall. I look around now and see the people all around me, teachers, authority figures, lovers and fighters, flawed and fragile and whole, good and bad in all three dimensions. I could never give up the pursuit of knowledge and insight, but I can’t help but miss being in the shadows, I miss knowing when cold is cold and hot is hot, miss knowing...
17 tags
4 tags
August 2011
3 posts
7 tags
Estragon: I can't go on like this. Vladimir:...
Los Angeles, California
Melt my heart
5 tags
i couldnt stay away, i couldnt fight it
San Francisco, California
4 tags
nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need
Frontera Grill, Chicago, Illinois
My itinerary for the next 2 weeks: Barcelona —> Marrakech —> Madrid!
Ciao my tumblr loves.
July 2011
4 posts
3 tags
7 tags
2 tags
3 tags
Perhaps it's done already, perhaps they have said...
There was something about you that moved me so deeply. I was shocked, surprised at myself, at how deeply entrenched my heart was. It was not love. I don’t know yet, what it was. It’s hard to explain, how much I abhorred and wanted you at the same time. During my late, lonely, drunken hazes, all I can whisper is your name. Inebriation peeling my pride and mind away,...
June 2011
4 posts
8 tags
i wish i had died before i ever loved anyone but...
Santa Monica, California
Who was it that told me life is like a funnel?
There are the little things that give away his sadness. The sole picture of his daughter and none of his newlywed wife. Oh, she is nice, to be sure, and her smile comes with ease, but there is no beauty, no grace. Perhaps he likes her, perhaps he loves her, but more likely than not, she was delivered to him by the waiter...
7 tags
The point is, her heart stuck in her throat,...
Chicago, Illinois
5 tags
like a slow song starting to accelerate
Chicago, Illinois
When people speak I like to watch their eyes, which almost always tell a different tale from their words. Words themselves flit in so many different directions, but eyes are always true.
“Do you remember that Christmas when I was 8,” he says to me, “my mother was tired, I said I would wrap the presents, and she let me? I remember the way my eyelids stung...
3 tags
May 2011
4 posts
13 tags
7 tags
3 tags
Full speed, half-blind
Chicago, Illinois
“for even horses cannot chase back the words you have said”
10 tags
April 2011
4 posts
12 tags
dream away every day
San Francisco, California
Recently I’ve firmly come to believe a lot of things that are trite, but they are, after all, clichés precisely because they are true. “You have to go after what you want,” a more august personage than I said to me the other day. A lifetime is a long time to regret, to be unhappy, to stifle yourself.
Sometimes it takes staring that which you want...
12 tags
12 tags
14 tags
Oh no, oh god, I am
San Jose, California
Got hit so hard and he didn’t even know. Knocked down onto the ground, I watched him walk away, unawares. It was just an accident or maybe even a dream. But I couldn’t get up, couldn’t muster the strength, caught so off guard, just struggling to keep breathing, sprawled across the floor.
I guess in the end, though, it’s always the same. You...
March 2011
6 posts
8 tags
7 tags
9 tags
