snippetsofmydays

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Anthony Thomas Lombardi, from "self-portrait as murmuration"

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Kaveh Akbar, from “Personal Inventory: Fearless (Temporis Fila)”, Calling a Wolf a Wolf 

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i am afraid of everything. i'm afraid of new days. i am filled with anxiety and i can't seem to close my eyes at night despite how sleepy i get.

191124 bdg 2334

[snippetsofmydays]

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Sylvia Plath, from “The Moon and the Yew Tree,” Ariel

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I let myself go to become

Boring, but not annoying

Expressionless, but kind

Where did they go?

My confidence, my liveliness, my pride

Why does it even hurt to let my tears go?

~ For the people whose pain is the only thing that's still theirs

[snippetsofmydays]

dear self,

i'm always sorry when it comes to you. i'm always so so sorry. i'm sorry.

131224, kopo and i hate everything

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impatience

is it impatience?

i am capable of so much more,

i dream of so much more.

these days, i reek of incompetence and ingratitude.

i am twenty three dying tomorrow.

the rush is unbearable.

is it impatience? ingratitude?

a hazy brain with noises of a busy cafe,

i am capable of so much more, i think

respect and pride i deserve, i think

it feels like i'm dying tomorrow

and the rush is unbearable

121124

[snippetsofmydays]

Tom Thomson

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today i couldnt sit at the buffet because i was afraid of sitting alone in a room of people who know eachother.

i walked out pretending i had an important text and sat in the lobby waiting for it to stop raining.

i walked anyway, through the rain, alone. the scent of the earth, the faint smell of dirt and the sun.

busy streets despite the weather, people hand in hand, somebody stopped me and asked my name.

she said she just wanted to remind me to reduce the use of plastic. i envy her courage to stop a stranger. her shamelessness. her braveness. communication skills.

i walked into a restaurant and sat alone in the middle of it. i stared at the menu long enough, i didn't want anything. the tip of my tongue feels sore. i'm broke. i want to go home.

i walked out. went to the convenience store and stocked up on cup noodles. i miss God. i'm trying to find Him everywhere. everywhere. everywhere.

people probably thinks i'm weird and awkward. i'm lonely and i'm trying. trying too hard.

121124 brg, first medicine convention

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once you know kindness, and what it means to nurture yourself,

once your mistakes don't feel so grave and destructive

thats when you know,

when you know that you've built a shield

an indestructible shield,

thats when you know,

you can walk through any fire, any storm

left unscathed.

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november is distasteful. i am constantly choked in dirt water.

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and again, i'm asking the void if it would get any better. this is not how i raised myself to be. self hatred seems to run in circles. i dont want to be seen nor heard. i am not deserving. but say, does it get any better? i'm doing a lot and nothing at all. i'm exhausted with a heavy burden on my left shoulder. does it get any better at all?

[snippetsofmydays]

Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours

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i pray the rain would take me

be a burden to the falling water, i'm not good at anything else. i don't belong anywhere. i wish the rain would take this good for nothing. nothing to offer, a burden, a failure.

071125, kopo

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the rope and a burnt child who can't swim

i'm staring at the rope that can save my life. i'm staring at it nonchalant, i'm staring at it with a blank gaze. i'm drowning and all i'm doing is staring at that rope that is constant, ever merciful, and all i have to do it grasp it. grip it. for fuck's sake, take it. my arms have never felt this heavy and i'm drowning, and drowning, and drowning. i can't do this, i am a toddler who can't walk. i'm a fish trying to walk on land. i am dying to get out. i am dying for a day without the whispers, without drowning. without guilt. with peace. with Your words. i'm dying for a sincere time to rest my head on the ground, declaring that You are The Most High, You are The Most High, You are the Most High. and God, that'll give me enough assurance that i'm drowning in mere surface water. i'm drowning in goodness, in love, in opportunities. i'm drowning in good but for fuck's sake, my arms are heavy. i am a toddler who can't walk. i'm a fish first day out of water. i say it enough time that i believe it. the way out is the rope and you choose to kill yourself with it.

God, i miss you. God, God, God..... i dont want to sell scraps, i dont want to deceive those in need, God i want to be by your side where river touches my feet and no responsibility hammers my head but that rope, God, that rope. Why am i choosing to wrap it around my throat instead of letting it save me?

070924 kopo