wanderlust

I’m a sucker for stealthily-but-not-really-stealthily romantic writing… and references to the sea. Whatever, here it is.

from bury your fucking secrets

his name was wanderlust
he told me a story of the ocean
and a girl with shells in her hair
he whispered into my ear
and held me as i shivered.

his hair was choppy,
deep sea blue
and he wore black pearls in his ears.
as he protected me from the chill of the ocean breeze
a warmth grew between us
and a kiss he offered to me.

the brackish taste of his lips
though normally deterrent
entranced me
for he was not a normal boy.
his name was wanderlust.

not to sully: twenty and certain

This is so beautiful on so many levels that I won’t say anything else for fear of ruining it.

from nevergirl

The last time I slept underneath the stars, I remember, I was in love. The moon looked like it had been spun out of stories and silver; and the sky was so clear I felt I could look up, fall into it, and slip unnoticed among the stars. I was young, and happy, and in love, and my world at that moment whirled around the big blue sky above me and the boy I was writing love letters to. Even now, all I have to do is close my eyes and I’d be there again, twenty years old and so certain in my happiness I’m sure my face glowed like the stars above me.

adversity

I have been laughing at myself a lot lately. It’s truly refreshing. I don’t remember when the changeover happened, but at some point in the past week or so, I stopped being so embarrassed and feeling the need to apologize for myself. Maybe not completely, but there was a huge shift.

I used to despair over what other people would think of my mistakes and what they would think of me because of those mistakes, which were usually very small. Now I just laugh.

It’s very strange and new and thinking about it makes me laugh even more. From time to time, I wonder if I’m suppressing something I’m not supposed to, but wondering that makes me smile, almost giddily… that I’m almost positive that this is something positive.

So, just a few minutes ago, I was being the careless klutz that I am and making a mess and laughing at myself yet again. I whispered to the klutz, “There are only two possibilities… that I’ve become so mature that I’ve learned how to deal with diversity… Diversity? Di…. hahahaha… ADversity… how to deal with adversity through laughter! Haha… Either that or I’ve finally gone completely mad.”

I really don’t think it’s the latter. I’m sure most would agree that that’s happened long ago.

eric

My phone (a Sony Ericsson W300i) is lovingly nicknamed “Eric.” Eric does not know how to swear. His SMS vocabulary does not include certain four-letter words that we know and love.

But I do. Half of the time, I am not proud of it. Some of the time, I kind of am. Much like the way smoking makes a kid feel all cool and grown up. Some of the time, there is simply no other way I see fit to express how I feel other than to repeat them under my breath like a backwards mantra.

Most of the time, I don’t even know why… they just pop out… not so much that I startle people on the street, thankfully, but enough to make me wonder where the H they came from.

They’re just words. Said in anger or frustration, sometimes extreme dislike (because ‘hate’ is a word I’d really rather not use although it too is merely a word). It’s all about context because the same words could be used to express delight or fondness.

One girlfriend often tells me she hates me. She wrinkles her nose and rolls her eyes and says, “I hate you!” in this slightly higher-pitched voice. She says this virtually every time we’re together because I always tease her so lovingly.

Yet people are offended by words, no matter what the context. I don’t blame them completely, especially if they have spent all their lives knowing that it’s wrong. And we all know how hard it is to change things that you’ve just known all your life.

I have long been fine living in a bubble and not needing to know what is going on in the world. But it’s been increasingly difficult to ignore the world beyond my doorstep and stay sane at the same time. You can’t not care anymore.

Which is why it would be so wonderful if everyone could understand that there is an infinite number of possible objectives behind the same four letters… and stop to notice that this person (from which the four letters are coming) has a genuine smile on their face and looks eager to have a meaningful conversation.

If people stepped out of the circles they usually mingle in, and were open to discovering different points of view… if only.

now

Words: never enough; sometimes too much.
Can’t express what swirls inside,
Can’t make sense of these thoughts.
Open lips wish/try to speak…
But being screams to be heard.
Palms up, walls down, let go.