I’m so sick of cooking and figuring out what to eat. This week, eat whatever is leftover in the fridge.
Cabbage stew it is!
C and I have been communicating a lot more, which is nice. Now that we’re both older (more so me than her) it seems like I can just relate to her better. This same sort of thing happened with Mai and all my sisters since we are so far apart in age.
Looking back, it was hard being young and trying to act like an adult to someone else. I tried for a while (particularly up until C was in 1st grade), but at some point I think I gave up and mentally ran away – partially under the guise of “kids never listen to their parents anyway” and “I have no control over the situation” – but that was just me turning to my favorite defense mechanism (DENIAL!) again.
Thinking of how my mom has influenced me, I know that it is untrue. You don’t realize it until you get to know your parents better that you are a very good reflection of parts of them.
Luckily, P was there to be C’s rock in her early years and I (at the very least) imparted what I thought were my best traits on her. P thanked me today for “taking care of the important stuff like relationships and school” but I feel like we’re just tag teaming.
Him being present for her childhood meant that I had the luxury of living out the rest of mine when we were 18, something I feel extremely lucky, selfish, and guilty about. I’m so glad he’s found B and can start to explore the world again. It’s his turn to play, although I’m not sure he quite knows how. : P
Sitting in sunlight
hitting my head
on the brown cushion
cream colored pillow to the bottom of my back
Stay making its way through the flat
via E’s voice
Sam’s streaming
telling me to look for the one
to turn attention upon itself
“It’s not something you take,
it’s given.”
It started off like always
Font, music, Helen Robins
Then read like the theater
Sitting on edge,
unsure of the ledge
A minute, then fast decline
turned the picture gray
She hung up the phone
and killed with envy
Put on red lipstick and her white dress
with the dimming of the lights
she was indifferent to her actions
Her dreams were neither him nor his
Her child’s flame burns bright
at the edge of the sea
he lay his head on me
Slight green slants
Staring to disarm
Sadness in his words
Simplicity in mine
inspired by a poem i heard on this american life (#354, mistakes were made)
apparently many-a-peoplePoet have rewritten it so I gave it a go
This Is Just To Say
BY WILLIAMS CARLOS WILLIAMS
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
//
I have woken
you from
your slumber
in the night
of which
you were probably
repairing
the old noggin
Forgive me
you looked so sweet
so content
and too comfortable
during meditation today, I realized that my kitchen time was zombie time – super unaware and just clicking off ingredients in my head. try again later.
plus, writing after meditation is good, but not when you spend the whole meditation time thinking about what you are going to write.
Today during meditation I thought of all the street food vendors in Vietnam. How consistently productive they are, their consistency stemming from sheer survival. And here I am trying to starve myself. #vegaterianketo #kindanotrly
Yesterday I decided to become a more serious person. Back on the diet, not ignoring animal pain. LESS DRINKING! Catch up on work creating time for hobbies, thinking, day dreaming, etc. We’ll see how this round goes. Next steps, make $ and expunge.