unpreparedness

there are things that nobody tells you.
not just any old things, life things. life necessities.

how quickly you can be taken in. you will succumb rather quickly. and nonchalantly.
it may take just one or two nights of that weight beside you. the even breathing.
the midnight escapes and returns to find an arm reached out, searching for you.
the creak of the bed as you slide in and the hooked arm that pulls you to their chest.

quickly. you will succumb.

and, so, your once familiar haven becomes a place of loneliness.
books lay beside you, attempting to mimic. but they cannot.
what is a girl to do? aside from picking up that book and reading into a world of sleepiness.

and, then, you will succumb.

america pacifica by anna north

in this dystopian work, the mainland has encountered a second ice age

leaving all of its inhabitants with nothing but a ship to a new island, partly made of sinking landfill.

it is a new world. and, yet, it has carried over many characteristics of the mainland; classism, drug use and revolutionaries.

the island is blatantly classist. the first-boaters are gifted with living a life that does not seem too different than the one they lived on the mainland. they can go to school, they can have homes and they can have real food.

the last boaters struggle everyday to get by. they live on fake cheese, jellyfish steak, low education and even lower living standards.

all in all, north's dystopian vision is leering, logical and alarming.

the main character, a young last-boater named darcy

must tackle all of life's challenges

in order to find her mother, who disappears after a stranger visits their

yellow-stained apartment to speak with her in hushed tones.

little does she know,

she will soon be a heroine.

north has created a tale worth pondering

filled with pain, revolutions, hope, grief and the best/worst of humankind.

"He said that living the way we used to - trying to shape the world rather than letting it shape us - he thought that was what got us into the Ice Age in the first place"

- North, America Pacifica

(un)healthy

my body and i,
we have this relationship.

it goes a little something like this..

dear body,
you work really hard for me what with all the inconsistent marathon training and strenuous (or "relaxing") yoga poses. you walk me everywhere, make sure i can breathe, see, talk, laugh. you are actually pretty miraculous and never seem to let me down. and i appreciate that. i appreciate that so much that i treat you well (or i try to) what with all the greens, exercise, lotion and sauna visits.
i promise not to hate on you even though everyone else in society thinks i should.
and i promise not to chastise you if i enjoy food a little too much and eat a little more than is reasonable for a person my size.

it's mutual, really.

however, i feel like i owe myself an apology.
i am out of my usual rhythm of life now that i am on holidays.

i stay up late
i sleep in late
i feed myself overpriced lattes and political headlines
sometimes i don't feed myself at all
sometimes i get too wrapped up in a book
and before i know it, it is suddenly 2 in the afternoon
and my poor tummy is making a very strong point.

i am attempting to strive on an all-greek-yogurt-diet
which is inflaming my minor intolerance to lactose.
and, yet, who could resist the merciless vice of black cherry creamy yogurt?!

i ate so many christmas oranges
that my tongue is practically burnt right off.

i keep moving my toothbrush from one bathroom to the next,
and it never seems to be exactly where i need it at that time.
let us not even discuss flossing.
that is between my teeth, me and the dentist once a year.

my right hip has been screaming in agony for approximately a week
if i was not so busy ignoring it, i would know that it is demanding a massage.

so, dearest body,
i am sorry!
i promise to do better.
i promise to no longer substitute a well balanced meal for honey toast and a protein bar (although, it could be worse...couldn't it?)

much love,
b

Source: smalltypes.com via Stacey on Pinterest

fiction ruined my family by jeanne darst

it is true
it has been awhile
since a book has made me feel uncomfortable

not because of the content
not because of the words

darst's presentation and choice of words is striking.
i never questioned her talent.
it is pure. raw. oozing out of each page.

it is her life, her gusto, her view of the world
that shook me.

not that i am complaining.
after all, a good book should move you.
should force you into introspection.
into the parts of your psyche that you may or may not be ready to visit.

darst lives this semi-charmed life
the life of an artist
in which, she is always unsure of the future
broke
and seemingly lost in a capitalistic world that cannot understand her reasoning.

she believes she inherited this life from her father, also an artist of sorts.
a writer.
who has been writing his first project for years.
darst's enfance, adolescence and adulthood are soaked in this project.
it affects her and her siblings, three sisters, in ways that no one could predict.

and, like her mother, darst was an alcoholic.

alas, we have ourselves a tale of family, inheritance, pain, addiction and following your passion.
even when others cannot. a tale lined with wit and humour. a tale that will grab you instantly.

darsts recollection of her life, her mother's death, her father's guilt and the brilliance of the "project" that seems to encompass every list bit of their relationship is moving.

read it.
i promise that you will not be able to put it down.

so, please, step into darst's semi-charmed life.

life lessons

in its rawest form.

gawk
ingest
live.

the lowdown on the meltdown

knitting projects unravelled: 8
balls of yarn purchased: 3
youtube videos watched: 20
failed projects: 7
self-esteem: non-existent
desire to craft: less than 0

times like this

it was times like this that she would do it.

unsuspecting.
quiet.
lonley.
filled with melancholy.

she was likely looking for answers
but, as per usual,
she was looking in all the wrong places.

as if a photograph could explain it.
ths shifting of her life.
the immediate change.
the uneasiness.

it cannot.
but that does not mean she wouldn't try.
she wouldn't focus on this photograph.
looking for signs.
symbols.
foreshadowing.

she tested herself, really.
how deep can you go
before the pain becomes unbareable
before you reach out.
before you stop.

she always found her limits.

like any true addict, she was searching for them now.
they, as per usual, were there.
just waiting
aching
to be discovered.

Source: flickr.com via Madi on Pinterest

so-called grownups

there is a great big tree
that sits outside my classroom window.

somewhere between broken french and giggling fits
i stare at this tree.

subconsciously i am waiting for it to tell me something remarkable
consciously i know it is impossible.

but that is only what these so-called grownups say.
these grownups, they really do take things seriously.
they must!
they have so much responsibility,
there is no time to play games.
and there is certainly no time to marvel at trees
and wait for some kind of life-altering narrative to appear.

and, so, i have decided
that becoming a grownup
is simply an unattractive idea.

i have yet to work out the details
but my new career as a quasi-adult is blossoming
and i will perfect it one day.

on knowing

she knew she could not sit here and watch it over and over again. that her heart would eventually meet her mind somewhere above her sunken stomach and she knew that that meeting would be frightening. it would be a revelation. one she could not prepare for. it was out of her hands. and yet very close to her heart.

for a long time, she could not stop it. she fumbled around the concept of knowing. knowing what she knew, not knowing what she would never know and accepting that she could not know it all.

and admitting that she, in fact, knew it all along.

and then her heart burst. metaphorically.
and she understood.

they were memories.
and if they were to be memories, she may as well only remember the good ones.
and these memories did not fall under that category.
so she let them go.

and when she did
it was as if she literally let them go.
everything was lighter.
she felt loved.
she felt accepted.
she felt like she had worth.

but she knows she knew that all along.

she realized that all the time she spent pondering,
was time she missed the love that surrounded her daily.

the beings that came into her life to love her
and for her to love back.

and, that, was what she really needed all along.
she simply lost her way.
and then, she resurfaced
invigorated.