prose poem c:

I have access to a wealth of imprints in my mind I have a sentimental memory that I half-retained; it’s a memory I can’t fully formulate. Happy memories keep me alive! But is it healthy to keep looking back? Should I look around me and in me, instead? Should I be aware of my future…

Read More

prose poem

Ode to my new academic program I feel I’m right back where I started. Studying psychology is a completion of the picture. The picture was blurry and its corners were faded. Now it’s like a crystal, a sentimental piece of jewelry, or a Polaroid with the image indiscernible, yet romantic and full of feeling and…

Read More

poem c:

These final hours  Before we go,  can I ask you about your past life? I don’t know what the future will bring, but the past can tell me a lot about the gloss on green houseplants,  and why they bring me a strange feeling  of manufactured joy—a happiness  that has been produced for me. It’s…

Read More

poem :3 :3

I am strong, God is my strength  I’m not sure why negative things happen. I know that words have the power to heal. Words, music, time, and the human hand and touch. Yellow tulips, custard, and all thing yellowy, must never be forgotten or left out. Nor abandoned, hidden. I’m not who I used to…

Read More

“lost and confused” is part of the process. it’s all connected; everything is part of it. small update on stuff so far. Part II

Hey you guys. The (phone) interview didn’t go that great…The nice lady told me right off the bat that they actually filled the position already…But she was nice enough to refer me to other organizations and opportunities in the community. :3 I’m currently applying for receptionist work in my local area while I complete a…

Read More

short piece

I don’t really understand most things in life. It was hard to simply make it this far. No one knows why anything happens. I hope things go much better in the future. I get paralyzed by negative emotions; fear, worry, anger, indignation. Most of what I do or say will hardly matter 100 years from…

Read More

:3 short essay

I don’t understand why certain things happened, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. Life is suffering. I tend to suspect that certain rumors and fabrications about me have circulated around, and that most listeners or bystanders have believed them. Job is my patron saint, yellow is my favorite color, god is my witness. I don’t…

Read More

prose poem

elements, essential substances  Spending my waking hours on my daily chores and errands gives me a certain clarity and purpose. I spent eight years getting through college. I don’t know why I didn’t just drop out halfway and look for greener pastures, something more hands-on, something more fulfilling for me. I’m often impulsive, but I…

Read More