[content warning: alcohol]I need to go to bed early because we are moving out tomorrow.
fuck it. I’ll just sit here getting shitfaced while the world goes on. It usually works better for awhile. Sorry for going on and on about this, but holy shit, what the hell just happened? Ten years ago everything was okay, we had enough money, no huge loans, we did everything a normal family did (sans a few things, plus some mental illnesses in the family, tho). Then everything started falling apart. Piece by piece.
Now that I think about it though, it feels liberating to an extent. We are no longer tied down. Or at least we are less tied down than we were before.
but yeah. moving out tomorrow morning. I OWN TOO MANY BOOKS. WHERE AM I GONNA PUT THEM. I am scared I won’t have the time/space to get all of my stuff before the bank takes the apartment. #freakingout #sendhelp
Also, I will have to share a room with my brother. My 18 year old brother. That’s gonna be rather uncomfortable. My mom gets the other free room.
I’m never gonna wait
that extra twenty minutes
to text you back,
and I’m never gonna play
hard to get
when I know your life
has been hard enough already.
When we all know everyone’s life
has been hard enough already
it’s hard to watch
the game we make of love,
like everyone’s playing checkers
with their scars,
whenever they get out
without a broken heart.
Just to be clear
I don’t want to get out
without a broken heart.
I intend to leave this life
there’s gonna have to be
a thousand separate heavens
for all of my flying parts.
- me: feels lonely
- me: isolates self
eating is so badass i mean you put something in a cavity where you smash and destroy it with 32 protruding bones and then a meat tentacle pushes it into a pool of acid and after a few hours later you absorb its essence and transform it in energy just wow
You start apologizing less as you get further into transition. The fog clears as you climb further toward the peak of this faith that you have bound yourself to. Despite the onslaught of voices and narratives that negate or dismantle you, your perseverance begins to support itself as this once purely psychic fact of your nature starts to take form in your corporal self. As we bridge the gap between our mind and our body, or we carry that prayer into this temporal space…it is easier to see ourselves, to feel real for the first time, and to finally trust our voice without shame.
“Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal,” Naomi Shihab Nye
After learning my flight was detained four hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.
Well — one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu-biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min faduck,
Sho bit se-wee?
The minute she heard any words she knew — however poorly used —
She stopped crying.
She thought our flight had been cancelled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,
Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her — southwest.
She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.
Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.
Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about two hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies — little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts — out of her bag —
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo — we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie.
And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers —
Non-alcoholic — and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American — ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.
And I noticed my new best friend — by now we were holding hands —
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,
With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
Not a single person in this gate — once the crying of confusion stopped —
Has seemed apprehensive about any other person.
They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.
Not everything is lost.
This is the doggy backpack I want to get for Ponyo in the spring when it’s finally warm enough to go on long backpacking trips up in the mountains.
It’s Ruffwear Palisade, and I really like the fact that you can take the pockets off the harness and just use it as a regular harness for trail running.
I also need to get him some sort of a torch/beacon for low-light conditions and collapsible bowls.
But this is awesome