retrospective of writing - fall 2016
"Paint"
To those that complain about watching paint dry, I bet you never had to in the summer when everything passes by in the blink of an eye.
"For Those Who Didn't Make It Through the Summer"
Every July, we try to re-create the big bang, but we just end up destroying ourselves in the process. There is nothing like the first time.
"Went to Many Museums in Europe and Realized"
People who do puzzles as children go into art restoration.
"Fall & I"
I used to count down to leap days and now I count down to mornings. I love when the low fuel light comes on to remind me how far I've been. I'm tired of sleeping in. As a teen, I spent way too many nights sleeping out, but new people inhabit those houses now. Refusing to vacuum or do yard work is a subconscious way to let people know that you don't let go of the past easily. It doesn't really matter if you don't rake up the multi-colored leaves from your front yard - the snow will cover them soon anyway.
"Honey"
We probably haven't met, but sometimes I think about our tenth wedding anniversary in Havana and how the early morning sun illuminates your perfectly tanned and muscular arms and how you play with my hair and kiss me a million times all over my face while laughing and how we eat breakfast along the multicolored streets and dance the nights away and how I take a million short films and photos of the kids to later print in books - a trade I learned in Montreal. I also think about how warm it will be compared to the nights I now spend walking down dark, windy, and cold autumn streets in the northern hemisphere, on my way to the 24 hour supermarket to buy only ice cream and a drink made out of rye bread. I love both moments and feel them deeply, nonetheless.
"Ego Clash"
He asked to be honest, as we sat on train tracks in the pitch black night, chasing our hesitation with 80 euro cent beer. He said he didn't want to know me superficially - he hated talking about the weather because in his town, it was always the same. That night, he found out that he didn't really want honesty or depth, but the facade created by answers to vague questions that would confirm that I am his dream girl (and a simple one at that). But no amount of "cocktails to go" could erase his dissatisfaction with reality. No amount of chasing me around a playground in the pitch black dark while drunk and laughing could change the response to "how many times have you thought about kissing me?" and no amount of dancing and playing guitar around his apartment while sipping tea for hours could change the fact that I had to leave. You said you wanted honesty - no take backs.
"The Distance Between Two Points"
The last time I drove this car was in the early spring of 2015. I was driving 13 hours straight shot to Florida, while blasting a mega playlist where no song was repeated twice and have not repeated any of those songs since. I can't say that I've missed it and I can't say I haven't. I've had moments where I stopped thinking about how my hand felt keeping the wheel straight for over 700 miles on I-95 South and how my brain was so tired, yet so awake and determined. Not driving gave me the freedom to embrace being tired and reckless, chasing the tail end of my youth. Yet, all these memories between these two points wash over me like white noise.
To those that complain about watching paint dry, I bet you never had to in the summer when everything passes by in the blink of an eye.
"For Those Who Didn't Make It Through the Summer"
Every July, we try to re-create the big bang, but we just end up destroying ourselves in the process. There is nothing like the first time.
"Went to Many Museums in Europe and Realized"
People who do puzzles as children go into art restoration.
"Fall & I"
I used to count down to leap days and now I count down to mornings. I love when the low fuel light comes on to remind me how far I've been. I'm tired of sleeping in. As a teen, I spent way too many nights sleeping out, but new people inhabit those houses now. Refusing to vacuum or do yard work is a subconscious way to let people know that you don't let go of the past easily. It doesn't really matter if you don't rake up the multi-colored leaves from your front yard - the snow will cover them soon anyway.
"Honey"
We probably haven't met, but sometimes I think about our tenth wedding anniversary in Havana and how the early morning sun illuminates your perfectly tanned and muscular arms and how you play with my hair and kiss me a million times all over my face while laughing and how we eat breakfast along the multicolored streets and dance the nights away and how I take a million short films and photos of the kids to later print in books - a trade I learned in Montreal. I also think about how warm it will be compared to the nights I now spend walking down dark, windy, and cold autumn streets in the northern hemisphere, on my way to the 24 hour supermarket to buy only ice cream and a drink made out of rye bread. I love both moments and feel them deeply, nonetheless.
"Ego Clash"
He asked to be honest, as we sat on train tracks in the pitch black night, chasing our hesitation with 80 euro cent beer. He said he didn't want to know me superficially - he hated talking about the weather because in his town, it was always the same. That night, he found out that he didn't really want honesty or depth, but the facade created by answers to vague questions that would confirm that I am his dream girl (and a simple one at that). But no amount of "cocktails to go" could erase his dissatisfaction with reality. No amount of chasing me around a playground in the pitch black dark while drunk and laughing could change the response to "how many times have you thought about kissing me?" and no amount of dancing and playing guitar around his apartment while sipping tea for hours could change the fact that I had to leave. You said you wanted honesty - no take backs.
"The Distance Between Two Points"
The last time I drove this car was in the early spring of 2015. I was driving 13 hours straight shot to Florida, while blasting a mega playlist where no song was repeated twice and have not repeated any of those songs since. I can't say that I've missed it and I can't say I haven't. I've had moments where I stopped thinking about how my hand felt keeping the wheel straight for over 700 miles on I-95 South and how my brain was so tired, yet so awake and determined. Not driving gave me the freedom to embrace being tired and reckless, chasing the tail end of my youth. Yet, all these memories between these two points wash over me like white noise.
posted by mapppping at
9:53 AM
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