Saturday, April 16, 2011

I found a blog post that broke my heart.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Letters Between Lovers
(The Things We Leave Unsaid)

By Ashley Shaw

It is sunny here,
But not as warm as expected.
Dusty yellow rays bounce off
The shiny red paint
On my car,
But I still shiver.
I never realized how
Cold it could be
In Florida

I, too, am cold.
But for a different reason.
I miss you.
I wish you would come home.
I can still hear your tentative footsteps
Walking through our bedroom.
It still smells like gardenia,
Even though all of the flowers
Have died.
It is brisk here.

Yes, I am aware of your brisk temperatures.
Like the cold tone of your letter.
I made it to the beach today
And let my toes drift lazily
Against the water's edge.
I wore my black bikini.
The one we picked out together
In one of those little stores on the
Jersey boardwalk.
I caught men staring at my
Rounded bottom.
I don't know why I'm telling you this.
I chased the seagulls
Into the foaming surf.
It's so beautiful here.
But I still long for home.
I hope you are keeping occupied.

I am keeping busy.
To distract myself from
Thoughts of your hair
And toes and skin and shoulders
And scent.
I feel your ghost in each
Breath I take, and
I keep thinking I see you
Out of the corner of my eye,
Your lips stretched into a smile.
It was so rare to see you smile
During the past few months.
I wish you were here.
Yes, I'm very busy.

I'm having my lawyer send up the papers.
Please sign them at your earliest convenience.
Why couldn't you just talk to me?
We could have resolved this.
I'm sorry it worked out this way.
Why didn't you just
Love me?

The papers are signed.
I'm sorry.
I wish I could have fixed this,
But I know
I could never be what you need.
I wish I could tell you
How much I love you,
How much I long for you,
How late I stay awake each night
Just thinking of your eyes,
But some things are
Better left

- - -

Post found via StumbleUpon at Daily Love.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Add this song to your newest playlist.


Bon Iver

An easy swing had its time shouldered
Slow bending axe
Now it's a photo framed
The swing hasn't had it

And here we are rebuilding roads
Right by roosting towns
It's just like the love
The one that's never been enough

So I'm counting on your fingers
'Cause you've reattached the twitch
And if you want opinion
I will die along the ditches

And every summer is a hot token
To the cold, cold take of lust
And every autumn singes
With the business of sadness

Friend had it wrong they see
Honey let it burn
And the curve in the county
Is never served

So I'm counting on your fingers
'Cause you've reattached the twitch
And if you want opinion
I will die along the ditches

Thursday, April 7, 2011

I post too many photos.

And it's been a while since I've just written.

-An overall consumption of peanut butter concoctions and hard boiled eggs.
-A desire to be completely in or completely out of a relationship. I just can't stand the millions of middle phases. Shades of grey (you know). Date me or not, hate me or love me. I'd rather be doing homework than talking or text-messaging if I know you aren't into this (me). I am not one to waste my time, feelings, or opportunities. Alright?
-Another letter from my brother in the MTC. He is doing great.
-A new favorite film: Source Code. Suspenseful, emotional, catchy.
-Zumba once or twice a week.
-Five new ideas on how to leave this country and where to go from there.

-A moment of relief as a peer offered me her extra scan-tron when I realized I had forgotten to purchase my own on a test day. Eek.
-One of the best two-hour naps I have enjoyed in a while.
-Dinner in the front seat of my car. This, for some reason, is something I really enjoy.
-A pep talk from one of my professors.
-An opportunity to hold a human heart, observe, and memorize.
-A very messy bedroom. Are you surprised? No.

-Brooke Shoko, College graduate. I wish to be a working woman.
-A bungalow with a nice porch. I will own the residence and have one or two room mates. It will have a nice lawn, porch chairs, and a vegetable garden. I will pay the neighbor boy down the street to mow the lawn and scoop the dog waiste (refer to next bullet). My dad avoided teaching me how to mow the lawn growing up. It was a work opportunity he wanted to reserve for my brothers.
-Own a dog. A bigger dog. Maybe a Lab. Some dog that will be my best friend, go on walks with me, chill with me in the kitchen, and be there when I get home from work. I will, by the way, have the coolest job someday. I will make a reasonable living and enjoy being independent. 

-My social life, happiness, and complexion have suffered from scholastic stressors.
-I should be sleeping. Resting my brain, emotions, and spirit. I couldn't fall asleep and so after surfing the internet, attempting to watch GLEE for the first time (which lasted five minutes), and logging onto Skype, I decided to blog.
-Realistically I should have died in three car accidents by now and be nearing the end of my Junior year in college. I am still alive. I am also completing the end of my Sophomore year. Let the good times roll.

-Life is good.
-I have enjoyed the little things.
-This blog post was effective in that I most likely roll to one side and be out within seconds.
-Thank you.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Hari Krishnah: Festival of Colors 2011

The Colors.
The temple.
The destruction.
The mass numbers of people.
The liveliness.
The familiar faces.
The group.