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when we make out, sometimes your hair falls from the way it sits. with a hand, you flip it back over, your swoop in place. i smile and wait until your lips are on mine, again.
sometimes, the edge of nothing is something incredible. hold on. life will turn around.
when things are tough, you rally. when you're sick, you (hopefully) rally. when you are protesting the mayor making ridiculous social service cuts, you rally. come on, body. come on, mind. come on, self. let's do this and get 'er done.
i spent the ages 19-25 in bars. i've danced on bars, had bartenders pour whipped cream in my mouth. i've had sex in bar bathrooms; i've cried in bars; i've done ecstasy at bars; often very drunk and very high. when i turned 25, though, i grew tired of it. i mostly grew tired of the substance use, honestly. it's been a few months since i've been to a bar, actually, and the only thing i miss is the dancing.
today, my existence is mostly related to grad school. i eat, sleep, breathe my work. it's not much of an existence at all, actually. grad school anxiety is currently immobilizing and i just feel complete fear, and find it hard to breathe. hopefully things get a little easier. i'm trying to make my existence mean more.
i've been killing bugs in my basement apartment lately. i worry that my home is like the kgb building i saw in moscow - once you come in, you don't come out, but instead of being for people, it's for bugs. i feel bad about being a bug killer, but they gross me out & scare me SO MUCH. the ants aren't so bad; it's more the house centipedes - wayy too fast with too many legs. next time, i'll try to capture them and put them outside instead of being a murderer, i promise.
sponges are absorbent, taking in any liquid they come into contact with. lately, i've been thinking about the things i 'take in' - without thought of boundary, of impact, of use. i have this tried and true strategy of carrying around things that do not belong to me; things that aren't mine to carry. i carry the weight of guilt from not visiting my mother. i was a child; i do not have to carry it anymore. like a sponge, i am absorbent, but unlike a sponge, i can reject what is not mine to carry.
lately, i've been thinking about death. i've been thinking about life and jack layton and really, what do we have to offer each other? i have this heart, this body, this mind, this smile. i have the ability to reach out to someone and offer whatever i can, to make their lives just a little bit better. in the end, that's all we have to offer - to make each other's lives just a tiny bit better, having known one another.