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itās great when Iām able to romanticize my daily life when things seem mundane. to be able to be grateful for what I have rather than focusing on what I donāt. thatās not to say that I think you shouldnāt question your situation and to be complicit, but sometimes for the time being you donāt have a choice. so itās better to look on the bright side of things. Iāve heard the quote that the grass is greener where you water it and I believe that to be true to an extent. Iām also reminded of a poem thatās stuck with me for a while. itās title is Aimless Love by Billy Collins and it goes like this:
This morning as I walked along the lake shore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later on in the day, a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.
In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailorās window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.
This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.
The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.
No lust, no slam of the doorā
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.
No waiting, no huffiness, or rancorā
just a twinge every now and then
for the wren who had built her nest on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.
But my heart is always standing on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.
After I carried the mouse by its tail to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink gazing down affectionately at the soap,
so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again as I felt its turning in my wet hands and caught the scent of the lavender and stone.
May 17, 2025
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i canāt listen to music without thinking about her. every piece of shitty poetry that condemns my for you page makes me think of her in our living room. she is holding bills as she sits on our couch, a calculator on the table and a glass in the other hand. i will ask her what she wants for dinner, and she will tell me.
thereās something so guttural about knowing you want to love someone for the rest of your life. that little moments like a dinner order are exactly what will give you the drive to wake up and slave away to a 9 to 5. ive been thinking about what i wanna be a lot lately. i think itās honestly teaching. philosophy. i like to imagine myself as a philosophy professor discussing love with my students, i would tell them about my little artist at home and our baby girl and how i too thought marriage was simply the removal of autonomy until it befell my door.
i think thatās a normal way to feel, with tubes of āthe good ol ball and chainā and ācanāt live with her canāt live without herā down our throats like prospective foie gras.
but my love is gentle. it is patient. it is kind.
Mar 16, 2025
ā
you know,
all i like to write about is love.Ā
writing is easier when itās about your own personal experiences of grief, of pain
but love is the beautiful dove of the twoĀ
released at a funeral, released at a wedding.
,
because the definition is different for everybody.
ā
the trees rustle again tonight, and the wind gently taps on the windowpane, begging again to be let in
and my thoughts race farther and faster in the night than a pure-bred, hot-blooded racehorse, bucking wild for the first time
my mind buzzes, stricken like a gong, reverberating in the quietness of tonight
as i drag myself closer to you,
you reach out for me, an unspoken, gentle and devout prayer, asking for me in the unspeakable words conveyed in a whisper through actions
ā
i promised you a fantastical world of your own, where you are safe, through my own creation.
i have created for you in the heart of my own somewhere for me to love you,Ā
fully and infinitely with all of myself.
if this is not where you are safe, then there is nothing else.
āĀ
word by word and sentence by sentence
i create dreams i would never tell anybody
not even under the skies of a cloudless night.
when i sleep, i tuck my hopes and sadness under my pillow
and hope a fairy will kidnap it and place in that spot
something i should need more.
but night after night, my dreams just macerate in the container of my heart.
soon, i will drink them like an elixir of truth
and what i am afraid of will come
May 2, 2025
For someone who claims to identify so closely with solitude, uncovering just how tethered I was to the emotions of people I love was a crispy realization. Of course, that attachment is the basis for any kind of relationship. You cannot claim to āhave someoneā in your life if you do not feel some kind of emotional connection towards them. The stronger the connection, the stronger the relationship. We all know this. However, there is something to be said about a relationship that is ātoo goodā; a bond so strong due to its shocking lack of tension. In hindsight of various broken and fragmented connections Iāve been apart of, any relationship that exists while remaining entirely unscathed now kind of terrifies me.
I believe there can be such a thing as ātoo much loveā, and I think those who have given or received it know when they have done so. Itās a mistake anyone is capable of making. Imagine a relationship so polished, free from any erosion (visible or otherwise); seemingly perfect. This type of connection can only be established through a building of trust and an abundance of time. However, Iāve come to learn that the more impeccable bonds tend to break easy when faced with their first real blow. Birds only crash into the cleanest of glass.
*"If music be the food of love, play on; / Give me excess of it...*"
I donāt want excess. For the food of love, I am no glutton. I eat until I am full and push my plate aside. I used to love like my life depended on it. I put those people whom I adored on the highest of pedestals, framed them in my gallery and admired new details every time we shared a visit. Maybe I just hadnāt been wronged enough to ever think that I could be wounded by those I dote on so heavily. What is it with loving and being loved that makes feeling hurt seem so impossible? Why must love shatter all preconceived expectations of what emotion is? Is love really so massive, so gargantuan that it conquers all other feeling?
Yes, and no. At least thatās what I think. This is all just what I think. I donāt want to come across as some great romantic or lovesick puppy or old friend. Iām just trying to figure out the right way to love, like everyone else.
Mar 16, 2025
Top Recs from @raven87
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even the smallest things may not seem to matter in the moment, but when you fast forward a bit, you may be trying to grasp the memory without any luck. writing things down, taking pictures, collecting, etc. is all so important.
May 16, 2025
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Iām so glad I found this app. I was looking for a place where I can share more about myself without feeling judged by the people around me. now people can feel a connection towards me being truly myself instead of the mask Iāve been conditioned to put on for others. I imagine handing someone Iāve just met a paper with a link to this profile on it as a fun experiment
May 16, 2025
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thereās some unity in being able to find other short people, or being a part of a āshort squad,ā but then thereās also my younger cousin who is outgrowing me. the pains of not growing are real sometimes. it is easier to make yourself taller than trying to make yourself shorter though, so I am thankful for that
3d ago