mindandhigh

[mindandhigh]

confessional poetry

[mindandhigh]

a pen name

what is in a pen name

[mindandhigh]

a poem i am submitting

We were nervous of thunderstorms, 

so we would dance in his small apartment. 

The porridge would stir itself on the counter, warmed by elves and soft whispers, and we would 

two step 

into one bedroom and 

two step 

out into another. 

Leaning into his arms, I felt the rough ravaging of the thunderstorm soften into an awakening shudder of soil and trees. 

“Let’s go on a run.” 

Windows shatter, winds whisk 

Thunderstorm in arm, soil slipping beneath bare bleeding feet

We ran with the storm two step to two thousand step

Leaping and abound

“My legs hurt”

Porridge on counter in bowls with sugar 

We returned to eat, shirts and shorts drenched in cold rain water

warmed by elves and softs whispers  

[mindandhigh]

life update

house to flat. home feels like here, home feels like holiday. 

first love to second

romantic to platonic

ties loosened and friends still in love

the one who holds qualities you search for in the next should the first wither

those feelings i held for that romantic 

the platonic a love soft and flat

[mindandhigh]

my best friend and i spoke on the phone for 9 hours yesterday, as one does with their girlfriend (joke explanation upcoming), and realised we had been dating from 9th - 12th grade without realising. i found it funnier than she did. but after the 5pm mark i decided i had been sitting at home too long so i took her on a facetime walk with me and stumbled upon ran’s closet whereupon a beautiful thrift haul was obtained. 10/10 thrift 15/10 realisation.

explains why im so in love with this chick hah 

[mindandhigh]

Oct 24

Happy and feeling like self.

9:30am date and 1pm with viv. Overall lovely time and I wore my newly thirfted sweater featuring a massive russian stamp:)

[mindandhigh]

Story or not?

“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.“ - Ernest Hemingway

Q: is this really a short story, or is it a prompt of a story, the beginning idea of a story, anything leading to a story but falling short of a story?

[mindandhigh]

If I keep dressing up like this I’ll save the world from Nuclear Apocalypse. But will anyone love me for it? I’ll save the world anyway. I know what looks good

Photography by Hank O’Neal | Text by Allen Ginsberg Untitled [Marsha P. Johnson], 1974-83 From The Gay Day Archive

[mindandhigh]

love is heavy and heavy is a burden?

Allen Ginsberg from “Song” Howl and Other Poems, 1956. Photo: Allen Ginsberg snapped by Peter Orlovsky

[mindandhigh]

William S. Burroughs Looking at Plywood Cut-out Silhouette, Lawrence, Kansas，Photo by Allen Ginsberg, 1992

[mindandhigh]

early morning laundromat concerns

[mindandhigh]

more life begins

Streaking in a crime high park and sitting aimlessly in a twelve person dorm, the first year experience began in January and is waiting to be picked up come end of this month. 

I ask myself if this is what I wanted; was it worth the mindblowingly expensive room and board, the encounter with a schizophrenic dormmate who sent us on a wild goose chase, and was it worth the food poisoning that found its end result in the attic toilet, and quite unfortunately my mattress too? 

These snippets of untold stories, which I’d love to tell in their full extremities, confuse me though. Compared to the cookie cutter stories my friends in Hong Kong seek to create and commemorate with facetuned, vsco heavy filters, the stories in Toronto feel real, less life”like” and more life begins. 

Is it wrong to search for that lifestyle here, or is this city the reincarnate of instagram.