um. words, i guess

[um-words-i-guess]

I will love myself.

One day, I will love myself

like the sunshine that warms my fingers

and sets brown eyes ablaze.

And I will love myself

like the moonlight that glows through the clouds

and caresses my tear-streaked cheeks when everyone else is asleep.

And like the wind that blows my hair into a frenzy

and makes me feel utterly alive

Like the first crocus flowers at the top of our hill

And how the entire valley turns from faded brown to vibrant hues of green in a matter of day

And I will love myself

like throwing tiny snowballs in the first snowstorm of November,

And enjoying every minute of frozen fingers and rudolph noses

And I will love myself

Like shovelling two feet of snow off the deck, so we can put down salt on the ice underneath

And like moving the succulents outside and back everyday to get them their sunlight,

And rushing out to cover the seedlings in a blanket to avoid the overnight frost.

And like keeping up with the river levels to save the diving rocks for the perfect day

And like the sleepover bag I kept in the backseat of the car

And I will love myself

like the bottle of contact solution she kept behind the mouthwash

And the Apple charger she kept in her apartment, even though she has an Android

And I will love myself

like the fire extinguisher and portable blanket our parents gave us to keep in the car

and the gum and face wipes we kept in the glovebox

And I will love myself

like the midol and advil I kept in the top of my locker

And the time she helped me figure out how to tape up my ankles

And I will love myself like huddling around the hot pole as a group after a particularly long and cold morning practice,

And telling secrets while sitting on the edge boards of the outdoor rink.

I will love myself in the way we used the rarely-used women's hockey changeroom as our not-so-secret-hideout everyday,

And like chanting that god-awful cheer with every ounce of our spirit at competitions,

And the first mention of a secret that has been kept to a select few ever since.

And I will love myself like every tired thumbs-up from someone sprawled on the ice,

And every DIY ice pack made with a ziplock bag when they didn’t get up.

And I will love myself like being pulled into welcoming arms and immediately bursting into tears,

And not being able to sleep in the same bed because of the laughter that followed.

And I will love myself with every story we’ll tell the next generation, and every story that will remain as knowing-all glances and barely-suppressed laughter

I will love myself with every recalled memory and every moment eventually forgotten.

One day, I will love myself like a life-long mosaic of everything and everyone I will have ever loved.

Until then, I can only grow and try my best.

[um-words-i-guess]

time's up

I can’t afford to sleep I have no time but I can’t focus because there’s nowhere to work but I need to get it done but there’s no time but I need to get it done but I can’t fucking focus and there’s so much stuff happening and so much to do in so little time to do so and I know I’m putting too much pressure on myself but I can’t afford not to and I have no more excuses and I feel like I’m going to fail but I can’t afford to and I can’t pull myself together and force myself to work it just won’t work and I’m running out of time and I need to start applying for jobs but I don’t even know if I want to and I can’t imagine being accepted because my grades are half decent at best and I can’t write a fucking essay to save my life and its my own fault and I’m running out of time and I can’t afford to stop I can’t afford a break and I want one but I can’t and I can feel myself slipping again but I can’t stop I need to keep going and I need more sleep but I can’t and I need to get better but I can’t afford to rest I need to just push through and get to tomorrow but I have to do better than I’m doing right now and I need to do more than I am right now because I am lagging right now and I’m slipping behind and I can do something about it it’s right in front of me but I need to get better and I need more sleep to get better but I can’t afford to sleep and there’s no time

[um-words-i-guess]

i never told her

I never told her how I felt. We were the best of friends. She showed me a place in the old arena where no one else went: the girls’ hockey changeroom. We met up and hid there everyday before practice started. Behind that latched door, we were safe and hidden away from the world. We would talk, listen to music, joke around, and sing every now and then. Back then I thought she sounded amazing; I’m only now remembering the cracks of her voice, all the times she went off-key and I made excuses.

I got good at that throughout our time. Making excuses, that is.

Even when she was late, I’d say, “It’s okay! No worries, it’s not your fault!”

Then she got a boyfriend. I never liked him all that much to begin with, but I found myself upset at the sight of them. Then I berated myself for feeling that way.

If she’s happy, I’m happy.

The first of many repeated mantras.

Grade 8, Winter Formal. We were at the first formal we’d had in years. I was there because my best friend went. She was there to have fun. I was still a socially awkward little thing that didn’t like talking to other people and therefore had trouble communicating. She wanted him to come, but he couldn’t: he had a hockey game. He got her hopes up, knowing he couldn’t have made it and then crushed them underfoot.

The worst part was the next day, when they met up at school like nothing happened.

Funny, isn’t it? How history repeats itself.

Back then, I thought I was jealous because I liked him. Boy, I couldn’t have been more off.

When they broke it off, I was relieved because a)he was a prick back then(and he still is now) and b) we were like… 13. What thirteen year old has the emotional capacity for a boyfriend?

However, that relief was buried by the guilt of feeling somewhat happy when my best friend was devastated.

I comforted her as much as I could. I wanted to hold her while she cried, but we weren’t there yet.

She took the break-up hard.

So when she saw him at a hockey game, she broke down in our changeroom.

I had to leave; I couldn’t explain why I wanted to stay, not to mum, who just wanted to go home.

How was I supposed to say, “My best friend who doesn’t seem to like me all that much anymore is crying her eyes out in the changeroom because she saw her douchebag ex.”

She got over him. It’s actually a joke, nowadays.

But now we’re separated by different things.

Her knee was messed up to begin with. Bad genetics, I guess. But she couldn’t skate at all.

And because we had only really interacted at skating, we drifted. Fast.

So much so that it surprised me when I saw her at the ice show, even though she wasn’t skating in it. She sat with all the others in the stands, and I felt my heart stop.

I thought I had gotten over those stupid feelings, that they were in the past; yet there they were, crashing down on me like there’s no tomorrow.

We came back together a bit, friends, I guess.

It’s worth mentioning that this was around the time that I came out to the skating group.

We were best friends, but she had other best friends she liked better. I think she only liked being around me because I followed her like a puppy. I don’t know if she ever figured it out, or if someone told her, but either way we drifted. I didn’t push her away, and she didn’t push me away; but then what did?

Our differences pulled us apart. We didn’t talk other than skating, and barely acknowledged each other in the hallway at school. Suddenly I found myself avoiding her, because I didn’t want to see her.

I miss our friendship a bit, but I know that it would have ended worse if I hadn’t-

Huh. I guess I did push myself away.

[um-words-i-guess]

you.

i’m falling for you.

you, who has become my moon: not necessary for survival, but you are something to hold on to in the darkness.

you have hung the stars in my sky, thousands of flecks of hope of a better time that is yet to come.

you have connected constellation messages of i love you’s and thank you’s and good morning’s and goodnight’s and i hope we never truly say goodbye

i want this feeling to last forever.

i want to fall in love with you.

i want to meet your family.

i want to watch anime with your siblings.

i want to watch your face light up, over and over again.

i want to make you jewellery and bring you random gifts i think you'd like.

i want you to feel absolutely safe and comfortable around me.

most of all, i want you to exist.

[um-words-i-guess]

On good vs evil

If everyone is serving justice by their own standards, and evil by those of another, does either side truly exist? Is there such a thing as true Evil?

There are things like greed, corruption, fear-driven impulsiveness, violent rejection of inadequate systems, desperate attempts for validation and self-satisfaction, actions driven by “twisted” ideals of revolution and societal improvement. self-isolation, distrust in governments, and the fear and consequent intolerance of that which is different and unknown,

and there are also things like the will to help people, to save those in danger, to fix that which needs correction, to change society to accommodate those who are different from the majority so that they may truly live and not be ignored and forced into silence. the urge to bring positive change and leave this world better than the way it was before. ideals based upon empathy and connection and preservation of freedom and life other than our own,

that much we can be sure of.

but is there a true separation between the two supposed sides?

does the wall of division truly exist, or is it an illusion, created to distract us from a common goal?

to deter us from becoming too volatile?

to ensure that we stay in a divided formation, and therefore easily contained and controlled?

or is this just history repeating itself as a result of our inability to learn from past mistakes?

or maybe i’m just feeding way too far into this, and in need of some sleep and water.

[um-words-i-guess]

On becoming attached to fictional characters

How fascinating is it that the human mind, when it is deemed needed, will search and search until it finds comfort and affection. Our minds sift through universes until we find one that soothes our yearning and distracts us from the "real" life, because what is reality if not what we make of it? 

We only know what we can perceive, and our perceptions are far too often biased to be considered anything close to reliable. We see what we believe we should see, and claim truth in what we can demonstrate and replicate and calculate and what makes sense to us based on preconceptions and theories whose validity lies in that they have yet to be disproven or out-matched by another. 

 So how wonderful it is that so many of us have such a strong desire and thirst for connection and validation and affection that we create our own islands to settle down on. That we imagine ourselves in adventures to satisfy our urge to explore and learn. We dream of our innermost desires to beat down the side-effects of our unfulfilling lives in a world that defines successful as rich and fancy and material and valuable. 

 And how ironic it is that so many of us wish for small doses of stimulation. A cozy space with large windows and plenty of sunlight, a job to support ourselves, a companion or two or three, and plenty of plants. 

Despite how our society seems to romanticize romantic experiences and material proof of success to a ridiculous extent, a large portion of us still yearn for simplicity. Even within our fast-paced world, we still find comfort in all things calm and slow. 

 How interesting indeed.

[um-words-i-guess]

1

i see people who are interested in the image i cast, and i do not know if what she casts is true

and suddenly i am more alone than ever.

how desperately i have seeked and craved this fleeting, temporary clarity

and how it carries a flavour i can only describe as both alien and undoubtedly familiar.

akin to the scent left behind on bedsheets of a lover in a past life,

the wind-carried perfume of the field wherein a dream took place,

and the blinks of existences that have come and gone.

and now they are returned.

for how long, i do not know. and i know not if i shall treasure them.

[um-words-i-guess]

so uh, beware

mostly gonna be lowercase and existential crises and sapphic longing and word vomit