If I am not mistaken, I believe that today (and tomorrow?) there are Nazi protests/riots/crazy shit going on downtown. Probably smartest to stay inside anyway. I told myself I’d start on my math homework, too, for complex analysis. I feel very fluid. In flux. Not definite. Not necessarily in a bad or good way, just… Continue reading Sporadically Calculated: six
Category: Personal
Sporadically Calculated: five
The next day, Holly’s friend Jonah, who she met almost a year ago in a junior transfer, and was one of the most hilariously entertaining people she knew, traveled over an hour to Berkeley, all the way from Fremont, just so the two could catch up. Holly could tell Jonah about him, and her summer,… Continue reading Sporadically Calculated: five
The Smell of Citrus (oxytocin sucks)
The smell of citrus A distracted mind, Thoughts of warmth, Fears of excess, A real illusion, Easily stripped away. The smell of citrus, On her hands, In her hair, Washed away the scent Of other, Innocently accumulated, Yet cursed with assumptions, Longing, hushed glances, Radio silence. The smell of citrus She wished he… Continue reading The Smell of Citrus (oxytocin sucks)
scattered mind after an untimely phone call
The truth was that she despised him, and very much adored him all at the same time. Both feelings swirled around like water and oil in her body, and she no more figured out what to do with such internal contradictions than she found herself utterly swept up by them. The contradiction consumed her thoughts;… Continue reading scattered mind after an untimely phone call
Tainted and Backward
I had a dream last night of a man who could cure people of their ailments by evoking the inner animal within them. He would whisper something to the sickly, and they would freeze; their skin growing ashen and out from underneath them, an animal with black fur would run away. "People… Continue reading Tainted and Backward
Sunrise
//circa February 2015 The clouds looked like ash against the pre-sunrise sky. Two restless souls stirred in their respective twin sized beds, separated by a great divide, both wary of the preceding night and all of its humanistic highs and lows. This strange, beautiful view is what Fernando, as he likes to be called, gets… Continue reading Sunrise
A Kiss is A Conversation
//circa August 2017 Cicadas chirping overhead, one sentence plays over and over in her mind: a kiss is a conversation. She thought of this sentence when she was staring at some Picasso painting of a woman, after reading a quote on the wall said by Picasso himself, that women are machines for suffering. Thoughts of… Continue reading A Kiss is A Conversation