post verbal

Ask me anythingArchive

Not Just Yet

I’m not afraid to die,

but I also don’t want to die. 

I’m having too much fun,

just being alive at all. 

I’m a kid at an amusement park,

who isn’t quite ready to leave,

not just yet. 

Eventually, I will tire

and my eye lids will grow heavy.

On the car ride home,

sleep will finally find me.

And as i’ll slip into a hazy dream

of a warm summer’s day ,

a grin will wash over my face

as peace settles in my bones. 

Shades of limitation

In the midst of my euphoric state of being yesterday, I draw a body. A naked woman ascending from the sky and being pulled by the earths. In suspense between both worlds. I love this idea, but the outcome is shit. I can say it was shit, not because I’m being too harsh of a critic, but because it was actual shit. Today I drew up the design for Cole’s tote bag I’m gifting her for her birthday and I’m very pleased. The final work is very rad. See, I can accept I’m good sometimes.

Today I learn the importance of shading and adding crinkle lines in t-shirts and life lines in palms of hands. These details are defining. They add depth and reality. It’s very adorable how I learn these things as I go. Of course I knew these things were important and often given much attention by most artist, but I neglected them all the same. Being self-taught is a long, but beautiful process. I learn not because someone tells me how to do, but because I learn for myself that it must be done. It’s astonishing how naturally some things come to you when you put in the effort. At first you are lost, no idea where to start or what to focus on. Alone in a world of experts. The virgin at the party. But slowly you spark conversation with the cute boy in the corner and you kiss the girl behind closed doors. Suddenly you understand the appeal, you get what all the hype is about. What’s more is suddenly you realize you have options. You have type. Lay off preppy boy with the backwards cap, don’t touch me you sugar daddy. I got my eye on you, tall lanky boy at the back nomming on those chips. You’re my type, I’m good at you. I like you. You’re fun. Let’s have some fun.


some nights are bliss. some nights are the first sip of coffee. some nights are the everlasting seconds before your lips meet that of a new lover. some nights are uncontrollable laughter in the presence another soul you connect deeply with. some nights are bliss. 

i feel so blessed to be here at all. to have to chance to connect, to smell, to breathe, to speak my mind and think these thoughts. i have done nothing to deserve the gift of life and yet here i am, swimming in it’s infinite surprises.

life is perfect. everything is perfect.

Grazing Moth

My body begins to wake from a dream my mind isn’t ready to leave. I fall in and out of conscious for hours. This isn’t your house, but I know it’s your house for now. It all feels wrong, nothing feels real at all, but I am persistent in getting what I want from this place. I will not leave until I get it. Why won’t you admit it the truth? It’s a dream, you are here, this is your playground, now go, call it out, let the games begin. You don’t. You just keep hoping instead of taking control. Silly girl. 

I’m in the shower, my eyes are closed, horror music begins to play at the back of my mind, something barely grazes my arm; it’s a moth. hello friend, please wait your turn. 

The asparagus is broken. All of them are damaged. I grab a bunch anyways. Wait, why are you doing that? Why are you spending money on food you can clearly see is not good? Let it go. You are a creature of habit and sesame soy asparagus is your favourite. But not this week… Let it go. 

Baby Steps

a log of all the spiralling thoughts in my head. everyday day. slowly, patiently, hopefully and potentially, things will settle. ideas more clearly expressed and understood. time time time. all I need is time. an efficient use of time, that is. 

eughh, hands are hard

"Well, you are just a tornado of contradictions"

my problem is passion. this is the root of such inner turmoil and conflict that stirs the essence of my being. i want too much. i care so vigorously about too many things. i want to do it all, be it all, see it all. i want everything. i feel entitled to everything. nothing can lessen my want for the boundless infinity. 

and yet, i know i am but human. i know limitations exist, i know that tearing myself up into tiny pieces until there is nothing left of me will not leave me feeling fulfilled. I know that this will leave my picking up the crumbs and wondering if ever was whole to begin with. and yet even with this knowledge, I still,

persistently, relentlessly, effervescently,

want it all.

(via Tamworth Lyceum Mug | Catalog Products | Shop | Tamworth Lyceum)


sometimes I feel as though I have never loved. As if being alone was my only and most natural state. As if any fluctuation from this current place would send my entire life out of sync. That I have become so comfortable with myself that I can no longer understand the need to search for it in others. But then, in fleeting moments, I yearn for it. I miss the touch of a lover. The touch of someone who wants me just as I want them. The soothing sound of another person’s breathing or the slow churching of their soul. But then I remind myself that I am not ready. That my soul needs more time, more time to grow. More time to learn. More time to understand. That I could not make another person happy unless I know who I truly am. But then I realize the flaw in this reasoning. I endlessly aspire to never be complete. To be in a continuous state of departure while always arriving. This makes me think that maybe, just maybe, I’m supposed to find someone who in fact sparks my desires rather than inhibit them. A person that helps me get from the place I am to the place I am going. Instead of seeing people as an anchor, maybe I should begin to see them as the lighthouse in midst of a dark night, or the stars that help guide me home. 

sometimes I think of them, and how my life would be if I were with them. If I could touch her body as he kisses my neck. If you could sleep in his arms as she makes us tea. How I could console her as she cries and he sits near with concern. I love this idea. I love it a lot. However, can I only imagine myself as a disappearing part of a pre-made duo. As the one who comes and goes. The one gravitating very very near, but ever so slightly off orbit. This gives me a great sense of belonging. Being pulled in by a strong force, but also vulnerable to the attraction of other passing things.

I will kiss her at midnight. I will kiss her as the year pulls away and her lover ages. I will kiss her and she will known. I will kiss her and they will know.