my hair is curly now. i bet you didn’t expect that when you wrapped dirt and shame around my half grown body. long hair brushed straight— one hundred times— to pull the memory out afterwards, but my milk tooth brain could never quite push you away. the day i chopped my long hair off i … Continue reading my hair is curly now (reflections on 21).
I still remember learning to ride a bike. My first bike was tiny, bright fluorescent pink with white tires and training wheels that were permanently attached. I outgrew it fast and it was passed down to my younger brother who told me that it was not pink, rather faded red and also a motorcycle. It … Continue reading training wheels.
Right now I should be writing about Galenic theory and the Hippocratic school. I realise that this is procrastination in a charade of productivity. I just cleaned my kitchen and my bathroom, too. My hands are still dry from dish soap. I miss writing. Even my journal is more collected pieces of paper, scraps of … Continue reading mad crazy tired. (when recovering is not glamourus).
Januarys feel like trying to swim in custard. Treading water, exhausting with no forward motion. I don't like the uncertainty that comes along with the promise of a new year. Anxiety demands that I am in control, with every future step planned. Right now I am very much not in control. I'm desperately job hunting, … Continue reading Down Days and Drawing El.
By the time this post goes up we will already be ten days into the New Year. Fortunately, there's no one grading me on my submission of goals or I would have failed this year by default. At the end of 2013, I decided I didn't like the idea of resolutions. I then came up … Continue reading New Year, Vaguely Same Me. (Also, some goals)
It's 1:34 pm on a Wednesday afternoon. I am still wearing the clothes I slept in under the oversized shirt I wear when I paint. Six weeks ago I would have been preparing for my psychology class, annotating notes on Erickson and Maslow and psycho-social development. Probably anxiously picking at my nails, simultaneously overwhelmed and … Continue reading Paint and Completed Essays.
The weeks before my eighteenth birthday were spent in my bedroom at my aunts, my last school holidays, studying for exams that I knew would never make me worth anything. I said goodbye to my childhood alone, sitting by the lake in my hometown, chopped off hair pulled back from my tired eyes, trying to … Continue reading days before 21.