Hey blogger.com, I think I'm breaking up with you.

I've moved on to tumblr.

Wildbirds & Peacedrums

And I can't tell in his eyes
If he's going to cry or if he's going to fly.

December's Just a Minute

Photo sources: Petra Van Raaij Barbara Vidal Camilla Åkrans

Listening... to my stations on Pandora.com. They follow accordingly: Psycho Killer, Grizzly Bear, Twinkle, Karen Souza, Imogen Heap, Sweet Caroline, Turntablism & Beatboxing, The Mamas & The Papas, Paulo Nutini, Carla Bruni, Paul Anka, Benji Hughes, No Luck Club, Animal Collective, Big Band/ Swing, The Doors, Sage Francis.

Praising... people who write like this and who is this.

"Why is it," he said, one time, at the subway entrance, "I feel I've known you so many years?"
"Because I like you," she said, "and I don't want anything from you."
— Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)

Watching... the wintry days go by in mustard yellow yarn (I've crocheted two hats and a scarf already) and fits of giggles due to the humor of family & friends.

Reading... Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. It focuses on a heroic female character who does what females are best at doing: self discovery from mother nature's blossoms, and love affairs. At least, that's what I'm getting at being halfway done.

[Learning how to] Cooking... before the "Freshman Fifteen" reaches toward me in the hallway of academia and the gutter of textbooks.

Writing... because my dreams can only carry me so far...because my motives are selfish, candid, and fleeting as I try to catch my words on paper mitts. Inspired by the omnipresent, interchangeable you. In All the World I Dream of Paper.

Sewing... on sequins and beads for barrettes. I've already made three and they're so jazzy! ♥

Loving... words like homemade, crass, callipygian, and defenestration. Connotatively reminiscent of some of my favorite things.: Arts & crafts, blogging, and word-of-the-day with my friend Natalie.


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Just in Case.

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♥

"If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it walls, and we will furnish it with soft, red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweller's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does."

— Jonathan Safran Foer (Everything is Illuminated: A Novel)

I realize I restrain myself
To humility, to comfort, to you.
I must stop before I am urged to check the mirror once again.

3:20 PM

I must not lie in your thoughts as you do mine.
Because then maybe you'll wait for me once in a while.

8:36 PM
I want to jump off the cliff of routine.

12/22

7:03 PM

I write,
I write all this for you.

12/27

9:18 PM

There is something I must say
I am mad.
If I crush the leaves I've pocketed away for safe keeping,
Will the sentiments before be the same?
Or does it change for me, accordingly, to the nature of my action?


12/28

9:52 PM

Bitch.

1/03

10:24 PM

See, this is what bothers me: that despite my quick feelings mustered, I cannot quite settle it into words unless I jot it down that instant. It is afterward that the words, they lose me--in the thick of all the gray matter trapped in my head--and I cannot, for the life of me, gain enough thought to pull it out. Unless, of course, I write it down that instant. This is an instant I'm sharing. Once it's over, I would probably never find it. If, in a special case, I happen to come across it once again. There are many mistakes I find in my reasoning, as well. But I don't want to share them with you. Only that I am frustrated. With this and with myself and with all of us.

There are so many things I have to say.
But why I can't say it, I don't know.
Maybe because I think it will hurt me in the end.
Where my barriers become blurred--the one that told me when to stop--it is my superior.
It covers me from humility, from the pangs of Time.

I can tell myself to love less, but I just can't help it.

And maybe, maybe it doesn't matter. None of it.
Hi five if you give a damn, anyway.