[yummy.]

a song from broken social scene's 2010 album, forgiveness rock record,

Sentimental X's:

[clock radio.]

my younger sister took this photo of the clock radio in my bedroom, above the white, wooden dresser with goldensilver hardware.

i decided to write a haiku about it, because i've randomly been into haikus lately.

(plus i recently got one in the mail from a dearly beloved friend, sarah giselle mapiya potts.)

here 'tis:

hats balanced upon,

the clock that ticks quite sprightly,

between them, a book.

you might think i'm silly for writing haikus, but benjamin began texting me in haiku and i was the first to text him back in haiku. and since then, we've written many an enjoyable haiku back and forth to each other, ranging from the deeply complex to the humorously mundane. an example of a haiku i might send to/receive from ben is this:

many lives and what?

what is this life's true purpose?

the wind asks also.

or (lol)

grocery shopping,

old lady smell is weird, no?

gunna buy carrotz

it's a delightful form of correspondence, and i highly recommend it :)

otherwise, i'm missing my beloved volleyball team. they have begun pre-season, and alas--my heart and soul go out to them across the central plains and mighty hudson. (never thought i'd long for pre-season workouts so much.)

xo,

the f.f.

[yeah yeah.]

[meditation. manipulation.]

the first time i sat down to wonder about the wind was during a picnic i had at puddingstone lake. at the beginning of summer, in loving company, i sprawled underneath a couple of oaks; my eyes followed the knotted course of the branches, untangling them in my mind, spreading them across the sky.

sometime after unpacking the strawberries, i felt--for an instant--calm. it either rose to meet me or descended around my body; it matters little how it happened. then, before i could fully acknowledge the feeling, it left me.

to fill the voided atmosphere, the breeze became a wind that brushed against my back, lifting up my hair. it felt like someone had put their arms around my waist, fanned their hands across my belly, and pulled me towards them.

as all events in my life seem to do, this brief story might appear to be nothing more than a coincidence to anyone who isn't me. in fact, most people will suggest that i'm crazy for reading into this. well, you can call me crazy, i don't mind. but i do believe there's something to this wind theory. because since that day, i have paid attention to it.

this discussion is not for the faint of heart.

i've been meditating a lot recently. on good days, i can meditate while i walk, eat, sometimes even speak. because of my new habit, i am aware of my surroundings. i trip less, remember more...the like. in particular, i've become more aware of the earth and her elements (the wind is the most distinct of these).

i started to experience the feeling of calm more often. i rejoiced in its comfort and the hope it gave me. it was peace in absolution. and peace is like love, as most things are. it is more welcome when unexpected, more cherished when needed, and more enduring when tended to with diligence.

the wind seemed to respond to me in these peaceful moments. without fail, each feeling of calm would be answered with a swelling breeze (granted i was outside to feel it). this happened with such unrelenting regularity that i became frightened. what of this wind? i thought.

after a while, i realized that it was silly to be scared of the wind. after all, it only seemed to agree with me.

sometimes i move my hands in circles at my sides while i breathe...it seems to coax the wind out of its shy casings. sometimes i can conjure up a strange breeze that responds only to my breath. it is strange because it has a pulse and seems to tug my body like a fishing line.

...

maybe i'm alone in these sensations. maybe others can feel the same rapport with the earth. in any case, i like imagining that i have some effect over this planet, no matter the scale.

with love,

your crazycrazy,

favorite fish

[as it was.]

in the way of love, i am well practiced in habits of vulnerability. i have never approached love carefully, only thrusting myself at it eagerly and without regret.

a short while ago, i started to ask myself why. i suppose it started with the hope that self-definition was something i could bypass, leaving it to my surroundings, fearing what would come if the endeavor was left to my own devices. (insecurely fraught as i was, i did not have much faith in them.) the fear of failing to love myself was more affecting than the fear of failing to love another. and to me, the inconsequential factor in the equation was that of love's ultimate consequence: heartbreak.

that is to say that despite having cried rivers while mourning the loss of love, i still continued to pursue it.

and i still continue to pursue it with faith in my efforts to find it.

hark, there's hope...

i just returned home from a trip to colorado. the air was thin from the elevation and the nearness of a closer sky.

we took three buses to boulder then hiked into the green belt mountains. at night, we slept under the stars. "arc to arcturis," he said, "along the big dipper."

he taught me how to hold a whittling knife and how to press its blade sideways into the woodgrain.

when my feet became blistered after four miles of walking, he lifted me high across the railroad tracks.

blue car, red car. we played games to pass the time.

in parks with picnic blankets; i, his wandering squaw, rolled sideways in the grass.

i had a good time in colorado :) but now i'm back here in california to catch hold of my upheaving adult responsibilities.

i salute you all for your patience with me.

with love,

your favorite fish

[busy.]

i haven't written a post in a while...i've been very, very busy...only to get busier in the coming weeks. in short, graduate school begins in a month, my internship has reached the peak of activity, i've been traveling a bit, job-hunting, taking guitar lessons, and competing in volleyball tournaments. all the while attempting to have a social life.

i've been planning a few things to write about upon my return to sanity. i might get a window tomorrow...but otherwise, it will be a while.

in the meantime, here's some old school juanes/nelly furtado for you