January 2012
7 posts
4 tags
An Almost Palindrome
Deem something Beautiful And it is. You invent something By believing it’s there. You invent something And it is Beautiful. Dream something.
4 tags
I want to tell the story of the world
By being a part of it.
If I could, I would get on a plane tomorrow and leave.
I don’t know where I would start, but it would definitely be place that was extraordinarily different then what I’m used to. I would spend a week as a tourist - seeing monuments, getting lost, taking pictures, meeting the locals and telling them I’m new and am excited to see and hear it all.
I would get lost at least...
2 tags
Why are we always tired?
When you cannot sleep at night, and when the trail of your eyes is slow in the day, and you wonder:
Why am I always tired?
When your face is warm but your feet are cold, when your steps seem to take forever, when fractures turn to tingles…
And your body wants to give up. It wants to sleep, to start afresh, but it never can. It whisper-yells “why”. More as a statement than a question.
And your mind...
3 tags
Sometimes we forget
To imagine.
Sometimes it’s hard to see past our own problems. But somewhere out there, while we are in our minds, right now:
There’s an abandoned field with a hundred black birds, flying in a way we’ll never understand. One broken twig causing uproar.
There’s a girl taking a picture of the boy she’s in love with. A climber 15 minutes from the top of a mountain.
There’s an exam writer realizing...
Meaning is a Matter of Perspective.
Does your perspective matter? When you were little you had a lucky keychain. A teddy bear with a rip in it that you loved anyway. An imaginary friend. You had a favourite everything: colour, number, crossing guard, Arthur character, freezie flavour. You made things that “didn’t matter” matter. And you were happy. Now what do you have? Well, maybe you have a project in the back of your mind...
2 tags
A Brief Peek Into My Sidewalk Imagination
This morning, on my way to a test, I missed my bus. Instead, I took to the sidewalk. Where all of my best thinking happens. On this particular morning, I was thinking about what it means to be a poet. I thought about all the ways we repress expression, and why. I thought if I had caught the bus I would’ve had more time to study for my test. I thought about what it means to grow up. I thought...
2 tags
The Beautiful Intuition of a Stranger
I love going to the bank.
People who work at the bank have got to be some of the most friendly people I’ve ever spoken with.
I’m a friendly person too, when I’m being myself. And today, I was.
The teller and I were chatting and laughing away as she ran my cheques through the system. (If you treat your tellers like human beings, banking can be this comfortable.)
Suddenly she stopped me, and...