xo, A. Song

Aspiring writer sharing half-formed thoughts for exposure therapy

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Day 5/100 Writing Prompts

From The Book of Alchemy

Prompt: How are you really?

WeLl WhAt A lOvElY tImE fOr YoU tO ASK!!

As I made note of in my last post, the airport reinvigorates me. So many new people to see and sometimes chat with. I often call it Pinterest in real life when it comes to all the outfit inspo that I garner. So I just spent the last 14 hours making my way to London. What a THRILL.

So how am I really? As of right now I feel that I have the innate and dream-like wonder of a child of say 6, backed with the capabilities of one w many more years than that. What a wonderful combo I'd say! I think this is the type of thing that 6 year old version of me would've dreamed of doing w her earned capabilities and experience in the world. So I want to say thank you to her, and thank everything that aligned to make it possible.

How am I really? Absolutely wonderful.

xo,

A. Song

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Something about the airport makes me feel reborn. So hello, it's A(gain) I'm in London for the first time.

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Day 4/100 Writing Prompts

From The Book of Alchemy

Prompt: What is the moment, place, person, or activity that has moved you to forget the time, to lose yourself, and to return to what can feel like forgotten depths. How can you begin to get back there, as early as tomorrow?

I've known for all of my life that I'm a lover. I love love. I'm a romantic. But falling in love as often as I want would probably not be ethical, so I've come to notice love in many ways, shapes, and forms.

I think there's love between two strangers' locking glance on the subway. There's love in the compliment you pay to the passerby on the sidewalk. There's obvious love between friends and family. All of these loves are beautiful and bountiful in their own ways, and I live to enjoy them equally.

Oh but then.. Then there's the crisp flourish of romantic love. I do my best not to center this in myriad loves, but I don't necessarily blame myself when I occasionally do.

There's a duality of complete trust and curious disbelief in the connection between you and this new stranger. I think it sparkles like the sunset on swaying waves of the ocean. It glimmers with warmth and surety, even against the vast unknown below.

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Hi hi. I wrote a new essay

I'm Glad I'm Not Happy

I remember so clearly the day of my preschool graduation. I wore a white dress with a chiffon, flowy hem. It was finally time step over the wooden bridge that was built specifically for Pumpkin Patch Preschool’s graduation. Although the bridge was only a few feet long, it felt monumental crossing it. As an adult now, I can look back at that moment and see how sweet it must have been: watching children of four and five years walk across the bridge. All topped with the bright orange graduation caps we had made out of craft paper and glitter the week before. The pictures I look back on now are so endearing that someone from an outsider’s perspective would not know the question that had been asked me, and was weighing on me greatly. Before the ceremony, we were asked to prepare our answer to, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” There was an incessant pressure inside me that I wonder if the other children felt as well. The question is simple enough, and surely we’d all been asked before. But something about this being a ceremonial day made me want to be honest, like I hadn’t been before. READ MORE

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This was astounding

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Day 3/100 BE SLOW

Writing prompts from The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad

This is your prompt: Set your timer for five minutes and do nothing. Stare at the desk or the wall or the dust motes in a slice of sunlight. Then write about what comes to mind.

There's been a change in the way I recharge. I used to stow myself behind a locked door after I had reached my threshold of socializing. Behind that door, I would lose myself into the abyss of the internet. Whatever the algorithm chose for me, I would relent to. I would disappear for hours, sometimes more, "recharging."

I realize now how that may not have benefited me in the ways I thought. Down the rabbit hole I'd go, dissociating from my own body that so desperately craved a respite. But did it receive it?

This may be something I can only understand thoroughly in retrospect, but no, I'd say it did not.

Now I find myself ready to drift into a private space, not to disappear in totality, but to come into myself fully. I feel myself charging as I focus on the passions I've learned I have, on the will power I now have for them.

It feels nice to know myself enough to be my own respite. I'm happy I can be a safe space for myself, and hopefully others as well, when they are in need.

All that to say, spend some time with yourself.

xo,

A. Song

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I'm sure no one is holding their breath for this but me, but I'm done w school now, and will be back on my 100 day challenge soon.

But another part of me knows I don't flourish with structure, so why am I doing this?

Dunno.

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I read something that shed light on the inevitability of hurting the people you love, and that you shouldn't try to avoid it. Instead, grow the courage and capability of soothing the hurt, taking accountability, and learning from it. It was one of those things that seemed obvious upon first read, but then extends to so many situations in life. So I'm practicing that now. Let's hurt each other, then heal each other too :)

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Although I've really been trying to add some consistency to my writing practice, I decided not to write all week. Instead, I fell in love.

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A picture may be worth a thousand words, but how many is poem worth?

More than the words within it I’m sure.

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First vs Final Draft of a Poem

First:

Like air to a flame

I believe in many types of love. Now I feel it again, in my chest My lips, and my mind especially. All hot with reckless abondon. For you I breathe a new air The air that you are To the flame inside me.

Final: A New Kind of Love

Its return is hoped for

But never expected.

On this day 

’Twas destined, 

First a catch in my breath

While I felt my chest tighten.

My lips, my neck, and

My mind especially, 

All hot with 

Reckless abandon.  

How strong are the effects of 

A new kind of love.

This one teaching me to 

breathe anew.  So alluring...

Read the whole poem here!

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Day 3/100 Writing Challenge - The Book of Alchemy

Join me if you'd like!! I think it'll only continue being more fun and beneficial :) Today's prompt:

Write about a time when you began doing something daily. What prompted you to start it? What were the obstacles that got in your way? When you missed a day, what called you back?

My answer to this is actually writing daily. It started actually not so long ago, maybe a year? I was reading The Artist's Way for book club, and in it the author implements a daily writing practice called morning pages. Mine did eventually morph into night pages, since it felt better to empty my brain at night. Anyway, the amount of connections I made after thoroughly thinking through the day's happenings made me so much more aware of the intricacies in my life, and in my relationships. Not only that, but I'm aware the memory works in funny ways, and that even the events that I think I will remember for a lifetime, I know for sure I will not. Thankfully, when I'm older, I will have daily journals to look back upon from age 25 and on.

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Day 2/100 Writing Challenge - The Book of Alchemy

Today's prompt (that was supposed to be written yesterday oops!) is:

Come up with 10 images from the last 24 hours. Moments, mental pictures, scenes, etc. Describe them.

Scene 1: I arrived at my folk's home yesterday, and my nephew was there. He was blowing bubbles with his grandmother. Personally, I was the youngest sibling in my family, so my experience w children is not a lot. W that said, everything my nephew does is such a thrill to me. I can't believe he's 1.5 years old and can blow bubbles.

Scene 2: This scene is of a dream, since the last 3 days my sleep has been extra heavy and drenched in dreams. So much so, I wake up groggy and feeling like I haven't slept at all. In one of the dreams, I dreamt of a peacock. Many of its feathers were missing, but its tail was still well intact. The peacock seemed on edge, and not wanting to be disturbed. As I'm sure many animals may feel towards the modern day human.

Scene 3: In the last 24 hours, I experienced another bout of romance. I spent 5 years being intentionally single and focused on myself. But that has recently ended, and I have allowed romance back into my life. It feels different now. Like a sprout of romance doesn't change the course of my life, but it is still as sweet and decadent as I remember. This time, it is with someone with whom I only partially share a language. We both know a bit of each other's and find a lot of laughs and giggles in between. When I say todo, it sounds like the dog from The Wizard of Oz, and when he says the "B" in "Beso" it's soft and sweet, just like the real thing.

Scene 4: Every time I return to my guitar, she's waited for me patiently. How after 3 weeks is she still in tune? She held her strings still, no matter the rising temperature in the midday of the desert. I feel her steel against my softened fingertips. No matter how much I play, my calluses never seem to remain. Maybe she's gentle on me. I've never been a great guitar player, but I never wanted to be either. I've loved having a hobby without the intention of getting better, but only the intention to play.

Scene 5: I stepped into my closet (the only place that's felt like home ever in my life) since it's filled with the things that have found me, and that I loved upon first sight. Something felt different though.. maybe it's just the turn of the seasons, or maybe it's time for a closet cleanout (which is equivalent to a personality shift). All for the best maybe.

Scene 6: My folks have a cat whom I love. Her name is Emma, and her glassy green eyes look like crystals. I stare into them, and maybe she sees my admiration, because she stares back and lets me enjoy them.

Scene 7: The ceiling fan in the room I've been sleeping in clicks. Though it's not a consistent click, so it often morphs into music beats in my head. I find myself adding it to the band in my head. The Beatles played last.

Scene 8: Maybe this means I'm addicted, but oh the excitement that bubbles inside me at even the glance, no, even the thought of a coffee. Cortados are my favorite, but any espresso based drink will do just fine. Mmmm.

Scene 9: It always amazes me, the sight of my suitcase closing even after I've stuffed it to what I thought must be near capacity. Then the sweet clicks of the latches locking is like the intro music to yet another movie that will be made on the coming travels.

Scene 10: I'm looking at the camera I bought most recently. I have been considering vlogging for years now. It sounds nice to preserve memories of things I may otherwise forget. I vlogged for a short time in 2023, and the remnants of that is on YouTube. Since then I've collected 4 different cameras in hopes to be inspired to start again. Alas, it has not happened quite yet.

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As promised.. Day 1 of 100

I'm doing the 100 day challenge from The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad, and sharing what I write here. If you'd like to join me, please do. This is your prompt: Start a timer for 10 minutes, and write what you'd write if you weren't afraid.

I started my timer for 11 minutes, since this is the first thing I'm writing today, and I thought a minute would give some time to get the juices flowing.

Fear. We've all felt it. Don't they say it's good to do something that scares you everyday? I feel that so many people jump to the scariest act they can think of: sky diving, cliff jumping, trying stand-up for the first time (??).

Sure, those would prompt fear, but so does apologizing to the friend you lost years ago. So does asking for help while half dressed in the department store dressing room. So does telling someone they made you sad. With that in mind, maybe it is feasible to do something that scares you everyday. For me, that will be posting these entries for 100 days, though something hopeful in me thinks that that fear will diminish after some time. How exciting!

Actually, I just wrote a paper about happiness. How the emotion, as well as every other, is meant to be fleeting. In that sense, I try not to see certain emotions as "good" and others as "bad." These emotions add texture to our layered experiences. Fear is an emotion that often gets categorized in the "bad" but should it?

Fear is what propels us to rise to the occasion, or seek safety. Both have benefits.

I have about a minute left on the timer, so I'll share the last thing I did that scared me: I just attended a wedding last week, where I met about 80 new people. It was lovely for the most part, but I do find myself a bit nervous around people from generations before me.

I believe it's because of the way I look. I have adorned my body in art and piercings that I consider to be part of myself now. I hardly notice them until the discerning eyes of generation's past are on them, and with those stares are carried many other assumptions of my character I'm sure. But gosh, even as I type this I realize the unnecessary weight that I'm letting that judgment hold.

When I'm alone, I understand that my body is just my body, and that is says nothing of my soul. So I'd like to carry that into more of the social experiences I have from now on.

Timer's up! What's the last thing you did that scared you?

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Read The Book of Alchemy. Anyone else?

I discovered The Book of Alchemy only recently, and plowed through the audiobook in just a day. As soon as I get my paws on a tangible copy, I'll be sharing my 100 day challenge here!! You'll help me stay accountable, and maybe even join me?? I'd love if you did.

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Placebo effect & my passion for fashion

So often, even a decaf cortado can get me into a flow state of werking (this is the spelling variant of work that I use when it's work I love, work I'm passionate about) So anyway I'm werking now, and thinking about what really drives me? I was on the phone with a loved one yesterday who offered their backpack for me to use on my trip to the UK and India. She laughed when I said no, that I had to find one that was "perfect." By perfect I don't mean new, I don't mean specialized with all sorts of functional pockets or gadgets, in fact what I usually consider perfect is the opposite. I love going to ma & pa thrifts and finding the 45 year old suitcase with a faded floral print to match, a zipper missing its pull tab, and a story of ownership I can fantasize about. Anyway. I've always loved fashion. The expression in it. In fact, I realize that before I found words and writing to be my method of expression, that expression flowed through me in the form of fashion. It's the way I found solace in a turbulent mind.. lallalaala Anyway X2, I'm in the works of creating a little fashion blog. I'm excited, and I also love the practice of exposure therapy as I post here. So before I switch to the notes app to continue my dreaming and scheming, I wanted to share the birth of this idea. If you're into fashion, tell me what it does for you. Tell me why you love it. If you already read fashion blogs, which ones??

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I decided from now on that instead of celebrating my birthday, I'm going to have a preemptive funeral. In lieu of gifts, write me a eulogy.

xo,

A. Song