Today I did a thing

Today I wrote and read some poems at a public poetry reading.

You read that right: I wrote and read today.

I woke up this morning knowing that I needed something at least semi-holiday themed for a poetry reading that I somehow agreed to take part in, sat down, and wrote two poems which I then proceeded to dictate publicly less than an hour later.

Who even am I anymore?

I’m starting to think that I’m the type of person who can not stop herself from taking things right down to the wire. But when my writing is well-received, it’s not much of a motivator to stop procrastinating, now is it?

But really, the point is, I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone today and read my work to a public audience rather than hiding behind a computer screen. And pushing my boundaries is apparently what I’m all about these days.Y

In an effort to keep things as tidy as possible, this is where you can read Falling and Snowman.

Until tomorrow,




“You’re a Parisian
snowman!” the young
girl, bundled up to her

eyeballs exclaims as
she places a beret on
top of a newly formed

snowman. He’s a bit lopsided,
but it’s the best she’s made
all winter. And the snowman

stares at her through his button
eyes and dreams of baguettes
and the Eiffel Tower and knows

nothing but a stationary life
and the happiness which
exudes from the girl each

day when she comes
to ask him how his winter
is treating him. And his

love grows for her more
each day as she gets taller
and he gets smaller.

“Je suis content,” he thinks
as he melts into the grass when
spring demands the young

girl’s attention.
A short one, but who
are we to say that

snowmen don’t live full lives?



Sometimes I find myself
watching snow falling from
beyond the window

and wondering if I,
too, am being watched
falling from a pedestal.

A pedestal that I
have fabricated in
my mind in a

feeble attempt to
believe that I am
greater than I was before.

My only wish:
to fall gently and to
accumulate with the others

who have built their
own pedestals and
tipped off the side, fallen,

and blanketed the earth in one final hurrah.


Obligatory airplane wing picture

There is something to be said
About the specks of dust that cling
Tightly to the wings of an aircraft
While being hurled through time and space
A reminder that distance does not cleanse all

There is something to be said
About the blinking yellow light
Illuminating wings through fog
Not unlike its emerald cousin at the end of a dock
A reminder that we can be guided home

There is something to be said
About the long, flying metal tube
Silently uniting strangers against their will
With one common, yet unrealized, goal
A reminder that our fate can be altered

There is something to be said
About a photograph of a plane wing
Encased in a digital tomb
Searching for acknowledgement and praise
A reminder that nothing is obligatory


Until tomorrow,


NaBloPoMo 2015

Well, it’s that time of year again folks.

NAtional BLOg POst MOnth: A magical time of writing, self-discovery, confusion, anxiety, excitement, and love…among other things! A time when I  search every nook and cranny of my mind and surroundings for inspiration as I attempt to write a new blog post every single day throughout November. *loud gulp*

It was a slap in the face for me today when I realized that the last time I wrote a post was on November 30 of last year — the last day of NaBloPoMo 2014!

See, the thing is that I’ve got all the motivation in the world to write for 30 days straight when it’s a “challenge,” but the rest of the year, though not lacking in inspiration, lacks in motivation for me.

So! Knowing that I often don’t get around to writing outside of November, I’m going to try to put as much variety and original thought/content into these 30 days. I’m aiming for poetry and prose, list blogging a la buzzfeed, exploration of that I do not understand, and to expand my knowledge of that which I already know. It’s quite the challenge, but I think that it might be just the thing to pull me out of the rut I seem to be in these days.

And as always, I’ll be taking suggestions for things to write about this month, so send your ideas this way, friends!

That’s all I’ve got for today, folks.

So until tomorrow,


All good things must come to an end.

Well hello Day 30. 🙂

I’ve been awaiting you for some time now. I’ve been waiting through every video I posted just to fill space, through every post about mental health, and through every set of ramblings.

There were times when I didn’t think I’d make it. Racing to make a post exist before the time ticked over to midnight and creating something out of a (dreaded) lack of inspiration. Bullshitting myself to believe that I was cut out to be successful.

But it all paid off: Only one late post among 30 topics, each day forcing me to do some self-meditation even if it only lasted for a few minutes.

I can honestly say that this year’s NaBloPoMo was the adventure and challenge that I needed. Despite it being my third year of participation, it made me dedicate to something during a time that I didn’t have the time to really dedicate to it, and it forced me to acknowledge and work through some things that I didn’t really want to. The best part is that honestly, I was only competing against myself.

So what will I do now that the month is over? Well, every year I say that I’m going to implement some sort of regular blogging schedule. And every year I fail miserably and end up writing some post containing a huge apology to people who don’t really care that I’ve been gone. So I’ve decided that I’ll write when I have the time and hope that something beautiful comes from it. I want to write when I’ve been moved, not because I’m trying to prove something to myself or someone else.

So expect rambles, and prose; expect rants and poetry. You can expect a number of things, but you’ll never see the post coming. x

I hope you’ve enjoyed these 30 days as much as I have, and I hope to see you in future posts, whenever that may be.

So until next time,


What’s in a name?

You know how sometimes you just look at someone and think, “Yeah. Your name definitely fits you”?

Is it because you can see the name their parents gave them written on their face? Is there something about the lines and dips in their facial features that screams “Sara” or “Cedric”? Or maybe it’s the way they talk or present themselves to everyone around them, a banner of sorts waving their names above them.

But what about the names that we give the people we care about? What makes us call someone else “baby”? Or “kitten”? Or the over-used “bae”? And why, when we’re called these things, do we accept them — own them?

What makes us reject the names like “bitch” or “snob”? Who said that we can’t own these names as well? Why must we say that these are unacceptable but willingly accept something like “babe”?

We’ve decided that the names that we give others or the ones that we receive are important. Whether we like it or not, good or bad, they define us and the people around us. They create our personas, sometimes against our wills, and give us an identity for others to subscribe to.

So what’s in a name? Because a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but we’ve already decided that a rose is perfection, and we wouldn’t view it the same by calling it a dandelion.

Until tomorrow,