ugly or not, i can't be banned

sophia. 20. assorted collections of words in varying order.

[flicker-wrote-these]

i would like to say to anyone following me going into college at some point that college is a blessing and a curse because of this: you are alone.

there is nothing keeping you in uncomfortable situations--if you don’t like a social situation, for example, you can just! leave! no one is forcing you to stay.

but also: you are alone! there is no one holding your hand to ease you into making friends and learning how to study.

you sink or you swim.

freshman year for me was filled with a cloud of mild depression that i didn’t realize i was in until i got out of it. i would watch a tv show through in like a week just to feel something. i would lie awake in bed counting down the hours and minutes and seconds until i could get up and do something, anything, to avoid the thoughts in my head.

you sink! or you swim.

i learned this, and i would like to pass it on to anyone who is reading this.

self care is not an option. self care is survival.

in the middle of spring semester, when it was regularly freezing out and i rarely saw the sun, i gave myself a change of scenery--literally just rode the bus to target! that is all it takes. and i bought myself a trader joe’s $1.99 bouquet of daffodils and watched them open.

that’s it. that’s all you need to do. that is self care.

and self care is doing homework now so your future self won’t have to worry about it, and self care is forcing yourself to socialize with friends because you haven’t spoken to anyone in three days, and self care is watching kiwami japan make a knife out of chocolate, and self care is being gentle to your child self, and self care is--

please.

be kind to yourself, and to others, and know what you need to do to survive.

[flicker-wrote-these]

a rainstorm in spring smells like when your mother took you into the garden and you buried your hands in the dirt. something growing and breathing--the scent of the earth clung to you then as it does now. the stickiness in the air lies tacky on your skin, like sweat but sweet.

something in the sound of cars going by over a wet road is romantic to you.

[flicker-wrote-these]

My mother was telling me the other day about how when she was a child in Kerala, there was an enormous statue of a woman, half-covered in water, that she would play around. Since India is such an ancient culture, those things were somewhat common. She described it as as long as the cul-de-sac, with a kind, benign face. I guess I just really like the image of a young girl playing about the legs of an enormous statue, the ancient past and the perfectly new together in one silent tableau.

[flicker-wrote-these]

"Hello, beautiful," I say to the summer storms

[flicker-wrote-these]

the sun is always there for me. now--with winter curling up to fall asleep, with the earth sleepily stretching her limbs as spring comes in, and the world around me spinning fast, faster, fastest it’s ever gone-- i turn my face to the sun. she kisses me, warmth on my skin, red glow behind my eyes. i breathe. she breathes with me. and i open my eyes.

march 26, 2018

[flicker-wrote-these]

I don't understand how anyone can look at the world and not believe in something. The other day I split open a dissection animal and the way the lungs cradle the heart, how the ribs stand and protect, how everything has a divine and perfect purpose--how can you see these wonders created and not have faith?

[flicker-wrote-these]

i live for those moments in my life that feel like movies: the quiet, off-beat moments with a friend like something out of a teen indie novel, strolling through the city in the evening passing a violinist on the curb, walking through a forest and feeling the wind play with your hair

[flicker-wrote-these]

love is, undoubtedly, wandering through city streets with someone you love, not knowing where you’re going or where you’ll end up but knowing that, despite that, you will not be alone

[flicker-wrote-these]

me in seven years: sitting on a balcony somewhere, eating ripe fruit in a loose bathrobe, knowing that everything i touch has meaning and that one day soon i will bloom into everything i am ever meant to be

[flicker-wrote-these]

listen, darling, hold these words in your chest: things are so hard right now and there is broken glass and sharp teeth everywhere you turn and there is cigarette smoke choking the flowers in your lungs but soon, so soon i can taste it, things are going to be so good. one day, you are going to be sitting in the sun with people you love and you will be eating sweet mangos and laughing with nectar on your lips. please, believe me when i tell you that you are so much more than the strife around you.

letter to myself, 2017

[flicker-wrote-these]

Science and witchcraft, to me, are two sculptures carved from the same peerless marble. Elements of chemistry and elements of the old philosophers, those who conjure and create in old, time-loved cauldrons and those who do so in clear, fragile flasks and beakers… the kinship grows the more I look. To me, it is no different to mix and match chemicals to create than to grind and dry herbs and crystals, no different to scrawl in a lab notebook the procedures and results of my work than to write of spells and moon signs and tarot. I am born of science and magic. Why should I not believe in both?

[flicker-wrote-these]

Girls like her are different girls like her are the storm Lightning a static crash of sound, knifing down through heavy clouds and slapping the earth in the face rain pelting down in liquid bullets soothing the sting of the lightning’s strike and thunder a deep bass rumble in the cage of your ribs boom ba-boom ba-boom

Girls like her are different Girls like her are a drum, a djembe, timpani, bass drum, snare skin stretched taut over a stiff wooden frame and struck over and over again until a sound comes out boom ba-boom ba-boom

Yes Girls like her are different girls like her are a heart pumping fiery blood through weary veins until sparks burn under her skin like crimson lace boom ba-boom ba-boom

[flicker-wrote-these]

The trail to the sun was bright, and

the

silent

call

of the emerging season

is Here.

In the coming weeks, flowers will reach full bloom and I

will reach

the Light.

[flicker-wrote-these]

“so you’re a witch now?” she asked.

“yeah,” i said.

“so what do you do?”

i stopped and thought for a moment. 

“mostly,” i said honestly, “i just hope really hard.”

[flicker-wrote-these]

The old house behind the river has one of those trees, those witch-elms covered in bottles and little woven charms, nailed and tied and hung (hanged) from the branches. There is no one in the house. Not a single person. The light is on. The house is empty.

[flicker-wrote-these]

god, her mouth tastes like milk and honey and i think i've found my promised land

[flicker-wrote-these]

i am, i think, intoxicated by the green shadow in the forest, how sunlight never reaches the forest floor, how ferns and brambles tangle and entwine together and how long grass and leaves have a way of catching the glimmers of light and glowing in it