#moamiswriting

[moami]

Hey, maybe take a moment to remember that you'll die one day. That the pain and beauty and petty annoyances are limited just like the small joys are. Do either nothing matters or everything matters. It can depend on it, too, whether you measure it with nihilistic hope or laughing despair or neither. But it means that you have to live in a way that carries you along the river to the waterfall at the end

[moami]

Nice, dat bin ich.

[moami]

So. For the first time in years, I'm writing again. For fun. For FUN! Hello?! Fun. Not because I feel pressured by my own insane standards or some external factors.

Man, I missed this. I genuinely forgot how FUN writing is when you just fuck around with words about characters you really like.

Who knows, maybe I'll start posting on here again. Life's good, you guys.

[moami]

I don't know where I'll be in five years, or in ten. I thought I could predict life if I only tried hard enough; if I pushed into the tracks of my chosen path with all the force of my body, muscles tightening in anticipated soreness, to force a cart without wheels along the road I wanted to take. In my mind, I told myself that certainty was possible if I aligned the stars and synchronised the planets myself, whatever it took.

There's no road. None of us have a cart, either.

I cried about that for a long time. There's nothing I wanted more than knowing that what I did was surely correct. That with mathematical precision, my idea of a flawless outcome was achievable and I could chip it out of marble day by day, even if I saw nothing in the white stone.

In the end, we all just walk through the forest. The road we think we see is where light touches, or flowers grow, or water flows between the moss. Whatever draws you in becomes a path.

I don't know. That used to scare me. It still does, sometimes, when a new thing lands in the forest with a meteor-impact or a leaf crumbles from my oak tree.

There's no road. There's no cart. I don't know.

I just walk here and admire the sights.

[moami]

I'm thirty today.

It's fucking fantastic.

And I can't wait to grow older and love recklessly and discover the world and weave memories into myself.

[moami]

the year is ending and so are our fears of failing still when success is glaring at us already

welcome to the party, acrylic, 2014

[moami]

There is resilience in letting go.

[moami]

Going on a multi-day trip alone permanently changes who you are as a person, and for the better.

[moami]

“the meaning of life is love” if you mean romantic then no, I am walking away from your definition and mind that values romance as the single pillar of life. if instead you mean the devotion of a friend to knowing the recipe of your favourite soup, the never-ending patience of your fingers scratching your pet’s itchy fur in just the perfect spot, the gentleness of the old neighbour tending to flower that will only bloom one year but they think still deserve to have the best care, the child reading a book of its most beloved story to a sibilng. if you mean humanity looking at the world and asking “who are you and how can I love you” and after not getting an answer, inventing poetry and song and science to understand, to adore, to remember. then yes. I walk towards you.

[moami]

if you’re learning a language you’re either “I have the vocabulary of a pretentious old literature professor but grammar is a sinful mistress who shall never cross the threshold of my house” or you’re “I only know what ‘strawberry’ and ‘to go’ mean but by ye gods I can make them jump through conjugation hoops and declension parcours that would peel the socks off your feet”. no in between

[moami]

being in your 20s and 30s is billy joel's "slow down, you crazy child" and “slow down you're doing fine, you can't be everything you want to be before your time” and “though you can see when you're wrong, you know you can't always see when you're right” all of a sudden and curling up around yourself, on the floor where it’s cool and calm, because yes I have to, and yes I am, and there is so much time and we are not running out because we are so so young in this world.

[moami]

Love that one of the simplest concepts of fantasy that evokes instant joy in all humans is “make small animal big AND make big animal small”. Give a person a cat-sized elephant and a horse-sized owl and watch them love you to the ends of the world.

[moami]

Every time you happen to look up at the night sky when there is a full moon, it’s the universe’s way of giving you a wink. Maybe it says nothing, just giving a tiny nod of acknowledgement to one of its improbable outcomes (you). 

Or maybe it says, “do not worry; just watching, never expecting”. 

[moami]

I see many people saying "omg other people my age have kids and I am here with my life in shambles"; 

and I think: 

There is no one way to be a mushroom. Have you seen how fucked up they are? How god-ignorant and wild? Listen to the mushroom wisdom. 

Do whatever stirs your soul.

[moami]

I think we love to feel nostalgic - discovering an old toy while cleaning up, the diary we forgot about until we open it again, the hobby we used to have and the songs we cried to - because we stand further away from the past now, thinking: Wow. Look who I am now. And look who loving this thing made me. Nostalgia is holding our memories with the hands they created.

[moami]

staying home for the holidays and picking up that one old book you were obsessed with as a child; three hours pass; you re-emerge from your childhood dreams with tears in your eyes, heart warm and longing