š
sure driving is hot and fun. But riding on the back?
i've been riding on the back of my moms motercycle a lot these days in japan. If i look dead ahead, i see my own, warped reflection in my moms helmet. I make faces, i look there and in the sideciew mirrors, which she cant see me through, and pull faces, see how im feeling by my face. and if I look anywhere else, the world is whizzing by at a perfect speed of fast enough to always have something new to look at, but slow enough to notice. i love the air that rushes under my geta sandals. I love the green that i can focus on or let blur, i love the changing smells, i love balancing, i love holding on like km riding a horse but straightening out my back, because when you dont have a backpack on a motercycle, your straight-back is a feeling from the heavens. I love how we go somewhere and theres no transition of outside to inside to outside to inside, i feel integrated, i can breathe, i can think. no looking at anything other than what is around me, and feeling what it is like to just react as the me i am. I can hold only short conversations with the driver as we ride, which is relieving. We are not fully cut iff from eachother but we are neverheld by conversation. I have wept in desperation of wanting to want life again in the back of my moms motercycle. i have laughed. i caw back at birds and sing till my mom tells me to shut up, which is most often immedietly. I hold off for a bit, till i feel i really must shout out again. I try to hand people flowers. I raise my arm with a bouquet in my hand, as we ride down the shore-drive, i let the flowers press against my hand and let the wind help me hold them up. I am like lady liberty but so very much alive and driving past you fast. i smile and look deeply into the eyes of strangers as we stop. they are almost always astonished to be seen. i spread my kindness and move on with the wind, spirited š¬ļø
May 24, 2024
Related Recs
reflection in the drivers helmet has seen my tears stream, my voice sing, me smile, me blankly stare ahead. rearciew mirrors point to me in a private side-reflection.
lately i have been riding on the back of my mothers motercycle. she drives and i look all around me. the beautiful paragraph i just wrote i accidentally clicked away and now i feel foolish and stumbly. never that on the back of a motercycle, everything passes you, and all you can do is feel what it is like to be you in that very moment. the only thing to do is hold on, straighten your back, and feel the wind rush beneath your feet. React to everything as you would, look at your reflection, then watch the ever changing scape around you. make deep eye contact and silly faces and truly kind smiles and spread your energy. sing and caw at birds, driver-pending. most recently my mother drove us to a tunnel i am considering singing infront of others in, and on the way back i held on with ine atm like a horse, and yhe other held up high with a bouquet in my hands, letting the wind press the flowers into my palm so that they did not fall. i am like lady liberty but very much alive. next time i will hand out flowers then whizz away. so much better to be the passenger and enjoy the view, i get to stay in my ditsy brain, calm, spirited.
(i truly wrote the most beautiful piece in response but accidentally deleted it and this feels so inadequate, but i just wrote and relived beauty, then tried to relive my relive, so, life is your best writing getting deleted. heres a pic)
May 17, 2024
š§µ
What a beautiful phrase. The joyful abandonment of inhibition, of self-regulation. Iām the sheep & the shepherd. I lay down my shears & let the woolly overcoat overgrow, soft & warm; slow, sweet suffocation. So much of life is the imposition of strict mandates on the self. One must be rigorous, one must be vigilant, one must never tire. Man am I tired. Tomorrow Iāll awaken bleary eyed & aching. Iāll promise myself over my roommateās canned cold brew drink that āthis is itā. I will once again conduct a coup and install a tyrannical regime of self improvement. But tonight, my belly is fat with cheeseburger & strawberry milkshake, my eyes are swimming in blue light. This is how I sleep soundly.
Sometimes when I drive at night & the road is empty, I turn the headlights off. Itās unsustainable to drive like that foreverā if I did that Iād crash. But man, those few moments when the headlights are off & Iām hurtling into the dark. Thatās what driving is all about.
May 20, 2024
ā
there is something figuratively beautiful about the things we know and donāt know, the sublime and mundane
and when you visit the beach, do you ever think about if the animals who live in the embrace of the depths remember the beauty of the ocean?
where the salt envelops every single one of us,Ā
accepting us as kin
letting her wind tousle our raw, visceral edgesĀ
and pepper them with her sea-foamed kissesĀ
which tell me that itās okay to pretend
and okay to tell the ocean all of myself
the ocean reaches out to me, hands cloaked in the sharp coolness of water and something else- something i donāt understand
as I poke around in a tide pool, like a vendor at a bustling market, observing the wares that the ocean has to offer
and i turn around and ask her, do the barnacles see themselves? do anemones understand their own beauty, fragile and ephemeral?Ā
i donāt think they do.Ā
but the ocean doesnāt have any words for me, instead shutting my mouth with a shhhhĀ
as her sandy dress rustles down the shore, laced with white foam and gossamer trails of ripples
and wordlessly, tells me to lookĀ
and i do.Ā
until the sun hurriedly retreats from the wispy radiance of the moon, enrobed in puffy clouds
and it's just the three of us.
the moon tugs at the oceanās hand, dancing to their own secret rhythm,Ā
letting me see them in their love.
personally, i think itās beautiful \\ and i wish i had something like it
and the ocean laughs. nothing jeering or ridiculing, simply an acknowledgement that i understand.
everything around me falls,Ā
like petals cast off from a chrysanthemum.
and then, we were wordlessĀ
like the ocean had never spoken in the first place.Ā
i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day,
to be hugged once more and never again.
not because i am tired of being alive,
but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live.
uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head
become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroinĀ
and better than any gateway into a better lifeĀ
or a better existence, transcending normality
and the moment itās just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive
suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket,
decrepit and dry.
i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers,
into flames,Ā
into an inferno.Ā
Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new
May 2, 2025
Top Recs from @chai
ā
Can't reccomend this enough
Dec 27, 2023
š²
if you cant get yourself to put your phone away quite yet, just get yourself to look at the room behind your phone, or the real world, as a constant practice. its like when the screen used to go black between eisodes of netflix loading. a reality check. it feels good, i promise. foreground the bavkground, even for a moment. be kind to yourself
May 24, 2024
š²
much more effective, much more confusing, much more true
Jan 22, 2024