the things we say

multi-racial, multi-ethnic, multi-religious--mixed. indian, parsi, polish, british. trying to figure out where home is--or if home is even a "where."

[harperhug]

Video of a kitten at a vet’s office protesting loudly as it’s scooped from the floor. Another kitten turns around the corner and walks up to the camera, also protesting loudly for its friend. From here.

[borderlands-disorder]

[thehauntedbyhumans]

Trying to remind myself of two things: 1. I’m still a poet, even when I’m not actively sharing my work. 2. I bring value to the communities in which I participate. The last few years of the pandemic have certainly put us all through the shredder. Our identities and our ties to community were taken from us, rocked from the core of the Earth, folded back into magma and mantle like some sort of horrific reverse-volcanic process. I have felt such a duty to the part of my Self that is a teacher ever since my school first shut down back in March 2020. Our children did not deserve the horrors wrought upon them by the failures of adults and our systems. I felt that whatever I had to give, it must go to my students first. While I do not necessarily regret that decision—I did what I thought was good and right and necessary at the time—the fallout from that was twofold: first, I felt my creative Self slip away from an arena of life that was mine and redirect all its energy towards my work as an educator. And secondly, because I was no longer engaging in the creative Self, I let go of so many community ties that bonded me intimately to creative spaces and people whom I deeply love. This version of my life feels like a skin that has hardened over—a shell to weather the ceaseless storms of the last few years. And in this rigidity, I have felt too scared and too ashamed to make meaningful attempts to get back out there creatively. How could I go back to doing these things when I had chosen to let them go, for my own survival as well as for my work? The guilt and shame has been overwhelming. I am trying to make space for the gratitude I feel that @poetryidiots invited me back to share with them again. There is still an awful lot of shame, guilt, and grief that I am trying to sort through. But for this moment, while I can break off a tiny piece of my hardened armor to let the light in again, however briefly, I want to say thank you to @poetryidiotben @lnwebre and @jonathanhumanoid specifically, for always being so supportive of me, even when I barely feel like I’m here or human. Truly, that love means the world. I’m so excited to see you again. ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/Cf9nGYCvaQ4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

This summer, I want to repair my relationship with myself. Starting with my literal, physical, embodied self. For the past year, I have been avoiding mirrors. Sidestepping my way out of every camera frame. Tying my hair back into tight buns and braids. Hiking sweatpants over my low-slung belly. In the most basic ways of blood, I have been avoiding my SELF. So although it was hard to take this picture—although I am in tears at the thought of looking myself through the lens of a camera, a cold and unfeeling eye—here it is: this face, pockmarked by both acne scars and sun freckles. This hair, equal parts stress-frazzled and braid-kinked. This tiny smile: half proof of a slow bittering, half evidence of a sweet still ripening on the vine, a tree still bearing fruit, still hanging on. Still here. https://www.instagram.com/p/CefY9J-Lkcf-sB1enLEw90GPNK5yLEojvDD-Mo0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day30 of #napowrimo is brought to you by: a @christina.leigh.brown prompt; my difficulty with accepting compliments and awards; and hope. or perhaps greed. I won Teacher of the Year at my school this year. I’ve struggled to graciously accept this. I’ve had every reaction ranging from quiet internal pride to desperate shame and grief. Needless to say, this year has messed with my sense of myself in a lot of ways, perhaps most especially in my relationship with my work as a teacher. I’ve also been thinking a lot lately about WHY I’ve found it so hard to accept congratulations for this award. And I think it’s because congratulations seem so final to me. Getting an award feels like: “Nice job! You absolutely KILLED at the thing you were supposed to, and now it’s done! It’s all been accomplished, all been handled, all been taken care of.” And that just doesn’t sit right with me. My experience with teaching, especially this year, has not been one that feels like the peak of a trajectory. It feels much more like an upending, an unrooting. I’m not so sure I know what it means to be a teacher right now. What “school” even is right now. And sometimes, those thoughts deeply discourage me. But then I remember that there are amazing thinkers in this world (two named in my poem) who are dreaming and envisioning what the world COULD be. And that’s really the work I want to be doing: imagining something, anything else. Anything better than this. And I’m not sure there’s an award for that. So yes, I am grateful for the award, but also, for the moment, forget the congratulations that I deserve. What about the world that I want? The world that could be so much more than this? That fuels me more than any award ever could. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc_jqW6v16N9bi6n8gZMYi0r8UjUaGxpmzBlzM0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day29 of #napowrimo is brought to you by a @christina.leigh.brown prompt, more love, and mental health awareness. people are really struggling right now. the last few years have done a number on us all. everyone needs more: more time, more patience, more grace, more love. and it’s hard. after all, we’re all tired, aren’t we? and when did the days get so long? when did the nights get too short for real rest, real sleep? when will we feel better? I don’t know yet. but I do find myself changing my priorities. I’m letting go of punctuality on certain things. I’m expecting less perfection from myself and others. I’m rethinking my priorities and coming up love every time. if nothing else, I hope you find what your real priorities are. and I hope at least one of them is more love for the people who love and need you. ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc8PqTALYABdF3sXMy2RwQyT-RtaVAViFiKGhw0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day28 of #napowrimo is brought to you by a @christina.leigh.brown prompt, a snippet of conversation I overheard in class today, and cyborgs. forever out here representing these hybridized bodies. ❤️❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc6dcoyvDrbQ-YRYj2-Ks7uO9PopY8JBYaGY7g0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day27 of #napowrimo is brought to you by a @christina.leigh.brown prompt, my favorite author of all time, and thoughts on childhood. been thinking a lot lately about the nature of childhood. what it currently means to be a kid and what it could mean. what a world that was built to better incorporate children into the world-making process might look like. what it means to truly be in community with kids. thinking about these things a lot because of my work as a teacher, but also because of my new favorite @azemezi novel, Bitter. (although if I’m being honest, every time they come out with a new book I’m like “no wait okay THIS ONE is the best one” so clearly I’m biased.) Bitter, the eponymous main character, does not get to have much of a childhood. and it’s so unfair and infuriating. every time I read more of this novel my heart bursts for Bitter. I hope we find a way to make this world different for all our Bitters. ❤️💔 https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc4AqiipBRihR-gq8F_T8xCdGOYk2_1zKJ_dRc0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day26 of #napowrimo is brought to you by: a @christina.leigh.brown prompt; breakfasts and mornings; and of course, love. one of the hardest things about a long distance relationship is missing out on the consistency of the little things. when my partner and I are in the same place, my favorite times are our mornings: cooking breakfast, making coffee, playing a video game or two to wake up. I miss that on the weekends. I look forward to the day when that’s my normal. ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc1PbEPvLjJFUicZeCAwv4E3IE-jrEZu2tZz_w0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day25 of #napowrimo is brought to you by a @christina.leigh.brown prompt, my first quick attempt at a golden shovel, and a “first word better than no word” attitude. Trying to accept that this time in my life, I just don’t have the creative energy and time to pour hours of work into my poems…yet. Right now my creative energy is totally devoted to my work. Hoping that in summer, I get time to heal, read, replenish the well, and build new routines. https://www.instagram.com/p/Ccy258Dpu3MZGRtPBSuo4MTntL61iN0Q29lQjw0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day24 of #napowrimo is brought to you by a @christina.leigh.brown prompt, haunted houses, and changing the story. thinking a lot lately about authorship. about voice. about who writes our narratives and controls our stories. sometimes I wonder if I give up my own power too soon. I think I do. it’s easier to believe that I am small than it is to see that I’m my own brightest sun. this is still hard: to see the fullness of myself. I’m not there yet. but I’d like to be. I think that counts for something. https://www.instagram.com/p/CcwGizRPDhNkX_g_yzujEzEh6KO6xJGEueCCns0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

Late #day23 post for #napowrimo is still brought to you by a @christina.leigh.brown prompt, love, and CATS. It took me a long, LONG time to allow myself to be the kind of person that was capable of romantic love again. After a breakup, I spent about 5 years of my life entirely single by choice, and it got to the point where I was quite happy to spend the rest of my life that way! Singledom was quiet, safe, peaceful, easy. When love came knocking in that sixth year, I REALLY did not want to let it in. I was so scared, so afraid to let go of the single person I enjoyed being. But eventually, even my own silly heart chose to stop resisting. I’m really glad I made that choice to open up again. To let love in. ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/CcwC2TmvlXrK9D6YWhFfDLGTPOt1bE-U49NCls0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

Swipe for the whole poem! Late #day22 of #napowrimo post courtesy of a @christina.leigh.brown prompt and some help from a friend. https://www.instagram.com/p/CcsuTpwLn7VBSHDZkzjaqF_qWo8cpVkF8uC5gU0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day21 of #napowrimo is brought to you by: dropping several plates; exhaustion; and this terrifying factoid a student told me today. wrestling with how far behind on stuff I am today, and yet, how I am using every spare minute of my time at work trying to get work done. this year is a bloody doozy. earth is some real nonsense this season. https://www.instagram.com/p/Ccoo1lUpXBdXCBZ_goFcUSApx55rlXaY2qOnhQ0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day20 of #napowrimo is brought to you by: a @christina.leigh.brown prompt; one of my favorite education experts; and parenting. whew. I gotta be honest: I saw the quote from Alfie Kohn I included in this poem and immediately wrestled with it. truthfully, I’m still not sure I fully agree with it. I would like to envision a world in which, when parents have run out of rope with their kids in the moment, they have a village they can lean on for support, to take the kids for a few minutes/hours so parents can take a break, etc. that being said, I’m grateful for all the times my parents, by some miracle, managed to “produce more rope” for me. I’m very lucky and grateful. but unless we expand our notion of what it means to raise kids, I’m not sure I could personally do this myself. hats off to parents. I truly don’t know how you make more rope when there isn’t any left. ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/CcmEP6ipzMw8XJBNT62M-mom06AknoV1nHIMKU0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day19 of #napowrimo is brought to you by: a @christina.leigh.brown prompt; a line from a Fiona Apple song; and my noticeable difference in commute time. recently, I moved back in with my parents, and so my commute to work is one again over 40 miles. in the past, that drive home used to take me nearly two hours. now, though, it takes me just over an hour and 15 minutes. on the one hand, I’m sure some of this lessening traffic is because many people/companies have opted to work from home (yay!). on the other hand, there is a painful reality: in Los Angeles alone, over 31,000 people have died of COVID-19 in the last two years. their loss is felt. even in something as mundane as traffic. 💔 https://www.instagram.com/p/Cci3ETpJBb4f0mH7Js5OeAYLSd73D80WiBHquY0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day18 of #napowrimo is brought to you by: real fucking life. thinking today about love. about the great love in my life. how it is not romantic. how a best friendship becomes family becomes…beyond language. but still real. so very, very real. shouting out at the top of my lungs how much I love my best friend. I love you, Ari. my brightest and truest star. ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/CchUwPIrL0yNtBe27vgBLKWUxQWSo7wwNRouWY0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thehauntedbyhumans]

#day17 of #napowrimo is brought to you by: a @christina.leigh.brown prompt; and my absolute lack of fucks to give. oh and also burnout. have I mentioned burnout enough lately? spent nearly this whole weekend doing one of two things: 1. working 2. grieving not particularly interested in pretending like I’m inspired right now. or okay. or happy. this is easily the most exhausted, the most miserable, that I have ever been in my life. it’s so weird to feel alone in this. I keep hearing from leaders of different kinds that some people are like…just fine? if this is you, tell me what you’re having for breakfast. I’d like to know what you’re doing right. I’m also lowkey resentful of how hard this 30/30 challenge is this year. like damn, writing poems normally brings me joy. now I’m too tired to feel the joy. too out of practice to feel good enough about at least trying to write and be creative while the world burns around me. while my career literally eats me alive. anyway. yes I’m probably being dramatic. I also am not sure that I care how I look to anyone right now. look away if you must. this grief is taking up her space and I am not interested in prettying that up for anybody today. we will be back to our regularly scheduled programming of “okay but how do I talk about mental health and grief in a way that doesn’t scare people?” some other time. https://www.instagram.com/p/Ccd5M2FPNlE9IuHJBt_FwqPOQAkMOe6VF003340/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=