‘being young’

I always thought that ‘being young’ meant selling your own body and drinking wine from the bottle, that appeared to be a fraud. I’d put on my best shirt so that I would be ‘wanted’ and drove home in the middle of the night, those are the memories I had of ‘being reckless’

I was wrong.

The day has passed and I sit here, writing at my desk. My entire body is tired and my eyes can’t really stand the light. I am rich, fulfilled, in possession of more beautiful memories. I realize that ‘being young’ means spending your youth with people your age, people who laugh at the same jokes and who share the same dreams. It is not that we dislike our parents, but we have better things to do then sit at home. Explore. Climb fences. Walk home at night. See another club. Dance a little different. Talk to strangers. Embrace chaos. Admire your friends. Be generous. Share a drink. Love a little more. Point at the stars.

Be young.


Days like these

It hurts to live without her but you got to do it. You have to wake up every morning and start breathing. Open the doors, brew coffee and be grateful. Realize what you have and have accomplished and what is left undiscovered. Sympathize with your siblings and stop fighting your parents over five dollars. Set yourself free, get out of the house and get lost, wonder. Feed your tiny little heart with beauty and surround yourself with your loved ones. We got once chance and we blew it. Own it, make up for lost time and find peace. Live and feel and breathe the morning air. Start again. Rise again. – things I should have told myself three months ago.


‘Take it easy little girl, wipe your tears away’
‘Take it slowly, don’t pressure yourself that much’
‘I think you should do that tomorrow, it will be a brand new day’
‘You there, don’t be so upset and stop blaming yourself for everything’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll come and pick you up’
‘Just stay calm okay’

There might be a thousand ways to love you. But the way that you held my hand whilst walking down the street, that is how I loved you. You were fucking there for me and you were tender as cherrytrees. You were wise and I adored you for being smart and thoughtful. I loved the way that you caressed my golden hair and stroked your hand upon my cheek. I thought that you would make me a better person.

You always told me to stay calm, and so I did. I patiently waited for you to come home, but it’s taking you so long. I waited for you to return my letters and I ended up blaming the mailman. I waited for you to explain to me what was happening and you left me in great confusion. I waited on you, like the calm before the storm. I waited for you to come pick me up, but you never came.

I waited for you to come pick me up, but you never came. I stayed calm, you taught me that. I stayed calm, serene, silent, dying actually, waiting for you to come pick me up.


They all..

They all wondered and questioned what I was doing.

When I was at school they asked me why I drew roses in my notebooks.
When I wasn’t at school they asked me if I was sick.
When I told them I wasn’t sick they asked me what was going on.
When I told them I was really emotional they asked me why.
When I showed them a photo of a girl they didn’t understand.

When they asked me why I drank red wine I told them they should try it.
When they refused they asked me why I drank another glass.
When I didn’t give them a reason they asked me why I behaved so reckless.
When I asked about their definition of reckless they didn’t answer.

When I booked a ticket to an unfamiliar destination they asked me why.
When I told them I wanted to travel they asked me how I got the money.
When I told them that money wasn’t the issue they said it was an issue.
When I told them experience had more value they didn’t get it.

When I cheated on my boyfriend they all asked me why.
When I said that I didn’t love him they asked me why I was in a relationship.
When I said that I wasn’t anymore they said they felt sorry for him.
When I said I had done the right thing they didn’t agree.

They all wondered and questioned what I was doing.
They still do.

He showed me love

I was back. I came back to be the person I wanted to be. And you were waiting for me like nothing had happened. We had drifted apart and clutched onto each other, but it was never harsh. We had never spoke, we had never blamed each other for leaving.

After I came back you still drank red wine, while I was still drinking white wine. We laughed and acknowledged the silence. I couldn’t find you house because it didn’t feel like home to me. I knew where I belonged. You held me in your arms and you touched me like the day that we first met.

We sat in the first winter cold and I dangled my shoes back and forth. You stared at yourself in the reflection of the backdoor. Your friends asked you about my presence, but you denied. You denied because we weren’t different with or without each other. We would always drink from our own bottle and come back to sit in the winter cold.

blondie pt 2.


I am always comparing my life to the life of others. I know that it is unfair and that you shouldn’t measure the worth of life to those of others. But I feel like I’m not even a proper opponent. I feel like I could never be close to equal. I depreciatingly look over the blurry horizon of what has been and what could have been.

unfair, unfair, unfair

Hurdles and burdens along the road, the endless roads of unexpected turns. If I could only be a little more patient. If only I wouldn’t assign for jobs before quitting the last. If only I could get a degree before assigning to other educations. If only I could get over my first lover before making promises to the fifth. If only I had time for all the things I wanted and needed to do. If only I would start living for today instead of the upcoming summer. If only I could start living instead of being lived by all of my restrictions.

If only time would pass,
I’d compare my life to my future