"everyday that we wake up is a good day. every breath that we take is filled with hope for a better day. every word that we speak is a chance to change what is bad into something good. we aren't slaves.. this nation is at least a potential democracy. we need to wake up from this walking nightmare and realize that the sun is still shining.."

walter mosley


so much has changed. i have changed. the more i learn, the smaller i am. the air smells different. white gardenia, perhaps. i began riding my bike again. i've decided i want to live in colorado, or northern california for awhile. i don't really want to live in new york city anymore. i want to move slower than that. layers have begun to peel away. it feels nice to have the sun on my skin.

(it's raining here today but it feels good, and i didn't open my umbrella.)


wishing on 1:11s
for cowboy boots
and a brave heart.
"you want a shot?"
"make that two.
the wishes ain't coming true."
third time around
he gives me
a lopsided smile
and i look


Assignment Two/Creative Writing

I found my religion when I was fifteen years old. A passion for the city, for the chaos, for the unexpected. From the fire escape I could watch the city fold and unfold from morning till night. I’d sit, letting my legs dangle over the side, with a cigarette and cup of coffee. I’d watch the Korean man who owned the grocery across the street open up, and I’d watch him close. He’d move to the Rolling Stones on my headphones, sweeping, moving, folding, unfolding. Around eight, the crazy lady living below me would crawl out her window onto her fire escape wearing only trashy red lingerie smoking a long Virginia Slim. At precisely 8:02, the Korean grocery man would appear in the front window and steal long gazes at the crazy lady who was now posing, making an art of her slutty lingerie and long cigarette. After a long last look, he’d slip back into his store, as slowly as the crazy lady would slip into her half opened window. They’d both turn and look back at each other, but never at the same time. (He never knew that she wore that lingerie for him.) Around 8:08 I’d crawl back into the tiny apartment, step over the boys sleeping on the floor and pour myself another cup of coffee. (Out the window.)
“Hey, whatcha doin’ out here all the time?” asked Crack, sticking his awkward shaved head out the window.
“I’m watchin’,” I answered.
“That’s all you ever fuckin’ do.” He tilted his head and spit on the street below, then drug the back of his hand slowly across his mouth, and slinked back into the apartment.
I faced the street again, took a sip of my coffee, and watched a world that struggled to be predictable, as did I, day after day.



i haven't written since i left for iowa city. there's no way to sum up what has been going on and still make sense. a list will do.

cranberry smoothies
hendrix, my fish
the pet shop i found downtown that actually lets you play with the puppies!
my poetry teacher
long drives at night in a car i don't own
living on my own
a new yoga class
talking to my mom a lot
not drinking/finding other things to do
neko, my cousin's new puppy that i've only seen once
watching snow fall from a warm dorm room
tony ofcourse
old pioneer co-op
iowa city before classes started
flavored bigelow fruit teas
bright pink toenail polish in the season where no one sees them
a spring break trip to LA (SUN!!!)
creative writing class
rhetoric teacher asking me out for a drink (cute guy that listens to modest mouse!)

freezing rain
poems i don't understand
parking tickets
living on my own
my roommate's laziness
the stingy boy that moved in my boyfriend
worrying myself sick
what i believe is a sinus infection (a.k.a a brick in your head)
my girl doctor appointment
finding an apartment for next year

yes! the pluses outweigh the negatives.


life used to be safe. i used to be able to predict my future that lie clear and concise like the lines on my hardwood floor. now i'm living day by day, always a little worried, always a little fearful, but finally living only day by day. i think i'm growing up. i know that beauty can only be found through a little conflict, a little confusion, never in monotony. (beauty can hurt, but beauty can change.)

as for the new year, i've decided to be a little easier on myself, my life, my friends, my family.. my mom has always said, "everybody's just trying to survive." that always seemed ugly to me, but it's the truth. it's why we let certain people in (and leave certain people out), it controls our every thought, emotion and motion. in previous years, my new year's resolution was to be perfect. ofcourse that never panned out. usually i headed in the opposite direction of perfect, and in the crazy span of life, that direction has lead me where i am right now.

i'm thankful for that.