The beets are burning. There’s a fire in my heart.

I’m stringing along a river of code…If/Else if/Else..If..If.. The infinite loop breaks my paddle forward until my wooden boat is circling above a sleeping trout. I hope he notices. The fish is stirred by my current of affection and wriggles out of his cave in lazy surrender. The rainbows fused into his scales puff upContinue reading “The beets are burning. There’s a fire in my heart.”

Moving On

What do I know about moving on? Very little and quite a lot. I am still very much a woman who romanticizes┬áthe sweet smiles and tender kisses of past lovers. At 25 years old, I am barely capable of donating clothes bought for myself 10 years ago to the thrift store (I mean, c’mon, theyContinue reading “Moving On”

Self Play

Last year, between the months of October and December, I occasionally recorded small clips of myself and other objects that fascinated me. I was at home, a home that I no longer live in or call home, and I was alone. The song “Myth” by Beach House happened to be playing on repeat throughout thatContinue reading “Self Play”

Old Letters

Nothing really makes sense. I think I’m forgetting what hour it is, what day it is, even what year it is, because nothing about time feels real to me. Reading through old letters from friends written 4 or 5 years ago feels like ancient history. Most of the words that were so passionately conveyed atContinue reading “Old Letters”