so, ridiculous story.

it’s almost 11pm and I feel awful for not having an interest in participating in Indian events or holidays anymore. I feel bad because I should keep trying to indulge in the culture as much as I can before I leave and really savor this experience. But to be completely honest, I have no interest, so desire, or even patience to tolerate being in this country anymore. This trip has been incredible and I am so grateful for getting to know my background and where my father has come from. But this has also been the most bizarre and slightly unfortunate foresight also. When I heard there was going to be a celebration within my society (apartment complex) I went out and immediately bought a pint of gin out of distress. Now, I am sitting in my bedroom being the drunkest woman in India and trying not to flip out because I want to massacre everyone in my sight.

In a state of rage I told my father I would change my name to rid myself of an South Asian influence. Just thinking about what I said makes me feel like an awful prejudice bigot. I was raised in America and just saying that out loud doesn’t mean a thing. I was raised in Las Vegas fucking Nevada, I feel like I should be more open minded towards foreigners , but all I want right now is to go back to California and forget about ever living in India because it was that terrible for me. Then again, that’s not completely true because I have had some tremendous moments I would never want to forget. I think it’s just the awful people I’ve had the misfortune of getting involved with that have driven me mad. It pains to say this awful group of people were my own blood relatives

It’s true, I rather be asleep than up and at it. I’m not sad or depressed or fixed on perishing. But, my dreams are much more interesting than my wake life.

I developed this bad habit of tuning everyone out. Everywhere I go, I feel like I am being carried on a conveyor belt, drowned in my own thoughts, everything else around me is muted and all I can do it look forward. I keep my head up high but all I want to do is sleep. All I want to do is meditate, I am searching the places inside my mind where I can rest peacefully in pleasant memories. I don’t listen to people who speak to me anymore. It’s all just loud noise about how I’m supposed to be. This bothers me, I am living each day as if I have guarantee to the next. That may sound cliche, but I must start enjoying each day. Last night My father had gotten really sick, I’ve been around him for nearly months now. But seeing him partially paralyzed in bed made my shield crumble. I sat beside him and hugged him until he finally fell asleep, I explained to him my intentions on bringing him back to the US. I said, if you are too tired to fight, then you can go on, but you need to see your family first. He started crying and said, I am tired, but I want to see your mom and sister one more time.

I’m a little annoyed that the gym has to be closed for one week because of diwali. Must be my haste-ful nature of being a westerner.

go home

I used to hate driving to work everyday when I was a driver at the restaurant. On the mornings when I had pulled an all nighter, I would close my eyes merging from highway 50 to interstate 5 just to get my heart racing. I had impeccable timing, not once did I jerk the wheel because my precision was always on point. I memorized my new city within weeks when I first moved to California. On lonely fall afternoons I asked strangers for directions to places I knew just to spark conversations. I always wished they’d ask me where I was from, though I hated in Las Vegas, with pride I’d say I grew up in Vegas.

Two months into my transplant city, I have general knowledge as to where I live. There aren’t street signs or names anywhere. People just seem to know where they are going. Now days when I’m walking along my new territory, I avoid eye contact with people. I don’t want to be looked at, I don’t want to be stared at. I don’t give a shit about anyone’s opinion on my short hair, western clothing, or coarse language I insist on using everyday. I just don’t give a shit.

I'm not feeling alright tonight.
I'm not sure what started this foul mood but I haven't been able to shake it off all day. I wish I could put my living situation into vivid perception but all I can think of is, I am not happy. I am very unhappy at the moment. I'm actually just incredibly sad tonight.

One significant part of my uneasiness is coming from my father. It seems as more time goes by the more I am beginning to resent him. I hadn't seen him in four years so from the age of 18 to 22 I changed a lot. My change was quite drastic actually. Finally as an adult and sober I feel as though I can ration choices better in my mind. My father knows absolutly nothing about me. What kills me is it seems as he want to know where I've been or what has happened to me over the years. Either that of he just doesn't have the mental capacity to do so. He doesn't know what instrument I played for 8 years when I was younger. Every other day is a screaming match between him and I. I refuse to believe that he has become utterly helpless. When he struggles in the morning all I hear for two hours is 'I should just kill myself, when you leave I'm going to jump in the river and drown'
Suicide talk is the kind of shit that just pisses me off. I get fired up with rage.
He is my father. He is someone I am suppose to look up to, someone is suppose to represent safety, someone I thought would encourage me... Ideally of course...
What hurts more is expecting these kind of attributes from him.
I know I'm a strong girl. Emotionally and physically. I do believe I am more capable than I give myself credit for but I feel so completely dismantled.
I don't want to be here anymore, this trip is starting to feel like more a punishment than a privilege. I don't want to go back to home, I don't know where I would even stay. I just want to feel safe. I want to be ok.

but other than that, life goes on.

I am so happy and overwhelmed with too many emotions to name. I could be walking down the street or even boiling milk for tea and suddenly tears start streaming down my face. Am I sad? Probably. For why? I have no idea really. I am incredibly homesick. Homesick for what specifically? I think this question is what causes the hairs on the back of neck to stand. Now that I am so incredibly far from anywhere I’ve ever considered home, what am I missing!… Is it someone(s) or somewhere(s) anywhere in particular but nowhere near. I spend every morning with my father and when I look at him I smile and then I want to cry. I smile because I love him so much that just his sight makes me feel like everything will be alright. Then I cry because I love him so much that watching his illness unfold before my very eyes again brings such a heavy weight… I wish he didn’t pain or struggle as much as each moment does. But in time, with time. Time, time, time. I feel as though I should type what little facts I know:

My name is Radha Jessani and I am twenty-two years young. And for the first time in my short history of life, I have experienced a different type of -ness. I have been asked by the world at large what I do. What do you do in America? What are you going to do while you are here? To be honest, I do not know what I am doing. But I can offer you a solution, be useful? Show you some art. I can help you fall in love, maybe introduce passion. I can sit around and feel things all day. Something like that maybe..

Monday

I wonder, will I ever cease to wonder.

That sounds so elementary..

I have San Francisco on my mind. My body is terribly sore, I’ve started these new work outs that are proving wonderful results. Yee Pune!

So it seems I’ve been getting sick every other day lol A little feverish here, and like nauseous there… I fear some Indian food is not suiting me well. It’s a terrible thought. The more time that passes the better I feel about leaving California. There are a handful of people that are consistently on my mind. I go back and forth literally every second, I love you, I hate you, you inbred. And Then I begin to to think, maybe I am just too much in my head………………………………………………. any day now.

My uncle said to me:

it takes the better person to forgive someone who has done wrong to you. But you are a damn fool to ever trust that person again.

Hearing that is like going through withdrawls with someone I have an irrational emotional attachment too.

Today while I was riding the rick back from the gym, I passed by a cemetery. A derailed train full of thoughts ran a muck through my mind. I remember in high school when my best friends grandma died, I went to the service but did not attend the actual burial. Her and I have been friends since we were in second grade. I remember for my birthday party during the third grade I was too shy to invite any friends from school so my dad invited some classmates. The evening of my birthday party went well, there was a good turn out but towards the end my brother had done something to upset me so I went outside and started crying quietly in my brand new purple coat. That was when my best friend came outside and gave me a hug and told me not to cry, she liked my coat. After feeling comforted at safe I started to cry again because it meant so much to me she went outside to see if I was ok. So after the burial of her grandmother we went to the cemetery either the day of or the next day, her and I walked by ourselves to the site and it was such a chilling experience. It had to have been during fall because it was cold out, the sky was overcast in deep grey clouds and there was a slight breeze. We stood there and I held her hand as we wept in silence. I eventually out loud had said something along the lines of, don’t worry about your granddaughter now, I will always be her friend and together we will always look out for each other. I love you and I will miss you. There was a sudden gust of wind with a warm current and the flowers propped against the stone fell over, and another wave of silent tears came streaming down our faces

so what's your excuse?

So I went to a social work awards ceremony this evening. This event was showcasing a group of professionals who have dedicated work towards education and improving social transgression within the state. Much of the areas of interest are in street children, child with learning disabilities and also physically challenged children. I really wish I would have taken a brochure or something because I don’t remember the name of the school. The program was in English but I still have a hard time fully comprehending what most say…… Anyway, the ceremony began with a young female doing a traditional dance, she was all dressed up the part and did a phenomenal job. The room was packed, there had to have been at least one hundred to one hundred twenty five people there. The dance lasted about five minutes but the moment the giant red curtains opened and the spot light shined on her I started crying and was emotional the entire performance. It was just her alone, I was so impressed, I was crying because her parents must be so proud of their little girl. She’s about thirteen with down syndrome and has already traveled all around India spreading the joy of what she loves, dancing.

I’ve had so much time to self reflect it’s becoming a little painful.

I feel like I should map out a time line to see where what went wrong.

Today I found out my grandmother passed away in August in of 1988. Then I was born and in January of 1989. My dad is sleeping right now, but he made me cry earlier. He was telling me that he begged my mom to name me Radha because her death was just as a surprise as my birth. Anyway, today while he was struggling to get up he asked for my help and when I lent out my hand to grab his he said in the softest manner, 'it’s been so many years but I still really miss my mom'. Hearing that pierced my heart. I resented my mother for so many years and finally after I moved to California we started a new relationship and now we are closer than we’ve ever been. I blamed her for so much. Sometimes I still get sad because I wished she would have defended me when I was younger but who knows what she was going through at the time. I have forgiven myself and I have forgiven my mother for the hurtful things we have said and done to one another. She is still my mother and has known me longest than anyone else around here. I’m grateful that she never beat me, starve me, or leave me without somewhere to sleep. Though she wasn’t emotionally there and neglected me through some rough patches I’m not dead or in jail. I don’t hold anything against her for divorcing my father & vice versa.

All these things happen with reason. Some that seemingly take too long to understand.

summer who says you?

I am wondering, wondering…

I like the blue sky. I also like the grey. I like surprises.

I like simple things. I feel as though simple concepts are the most complex for the masses to comprehend.

You like the shape of the clouds? are you idiotic?

No, I simply noticed the clouds up above and made a comment, I like the shape of the clouds today.

Looking forward, I feel terrible. What else can make up? Can I come up with a terrible lie and wait watch the destruction unfold. I miss my friend, she’s so wonderful. My friend, her body is made of gold. Her mind is sharp, like that of a tool adequate to slice diamonds. Diamonds do not shatter, they do not break. Is this simple enough?

My friend calls me at night just to say hello. We recap the days events in good humor and remind ourselves of the little time we have before sunrise. Then when I hang up I look out my window to the sky, then close my eyes.

My dreams take me places I know I will never go. I like that idea better sometimes. When I was nine years old I had a crush on a boy at school. I thought he was so handsome, I thought he was so cool. One afternoon while I patiently waited for my father to pick me, he walked up along side me waiting for his mother. I glanced over to him trying to meet his eyes with no success. Looking forward I see my dad walking towards the school and they boy says, why is that man walking so funny, he looks stupid. My insides shattered. I was devastated he said that about my father. Instead of slapping the ignorant bastard and telling him my father is ill, I looked at him and started to cry. I said, you’re stupid and you’re ugly. Then I ran up to my dad and hugged him tight and said, I don’t think you walk funny. He looks at me and asks why I am crying, I tell him, I’m crying because I’m sad.

70 going on 23

I made a friend tonight.

I was with my dads friend who doesn’t speak English very well. I don’t speak Hindi at all but somehow we communicate and have a good time when we’re both around. We went for a walk down a major road, looking at shops… When I asked him if he could fin me this dessert my dad used to bring from the temple all the time. It was tough trying to describe this treat but he ended up taking me this bakery where the cutest old woman was standing behind the counter. I smiled and waved like I do with everyone because I feel a fool for not knowing the language and she raises her arms up and flexes her biceps lol

She looks at me and in broken english says, you are a strong girl! Let me tell you a story!

She told us a story a story about some cops who beat some thieves and one of the cops was a lady and picked up the scum bag by the ear, I reminded her of that for some reason lol so we laughed and I think I understood that’s what the story was about… Anyway, I asked her to help me identify the name of the treat I was craving and right away she screamed the name! I forgot how to pronounce it already.. So she directs us to another bakery across the way where they sell the treat.

About fifteen minutes later while I’m feasting on my dessert I get a tap on the shoulder and it’s the old woman! She’s really old. I mean, no teeth like 4’5 a little beard but shes adorable. She must have been drop dead gorgeous in her prime days. Anyway, she came back to give me a gift, and she says, you left so soon, I wanted to give you this because I see all kinds of people everyday. I speak with hundreds of people everyday but none have smiled that way that you do.

I was so flattered. So we ended up talking forever and I showed my uncles tailoring shop and I told I would visit her at least once a month or more before I leave back to the states. She’s a fire cracker though, cracking jokes left ad right lol

I’ve noticed, I get along better with old people than I do with kidz my age! so while I was walking home I was looking at the moon and all I could think of was,

still is a soft shock, to your soft side, summer moon…

it's kinda nice

Another realization take #102

so when I go back to the states I am going to have to start from scratch, which is okay. When I left Las Vegas four years ago I was freaking hysterical. When I first arrived in India I was fine, I was more sad about the death of my old self than I was anything else really. There are many more complexities that go on… but to keep it simple, I was more distraught at the fact this would change me. My character is showing. And it is much more broken than I thought.

I look at my father and I feel so sad. I am more sad being with him now than I was when we were apart. I have figured I am more sad now because he knows nothing about who I am now. He is so consumed by his illness he doesn’t even care to know. Partially because his mind cannot process what I tell him. Everyday he reverts to memories of my childhood. But he only remembers the little girl he had before the divorce. This troubles me.

pagi

Today is India’s Independence day. A good 63 years in the making. This land is so old, it almost seems inaccurate to be celebrating sixty three years of Independence. Anyway, it was nice.

Today I was taken to children’s home to pass out snacks and goodies. This institution is specially cater to kids with physical and mental differences. The title of the organization is The Society for the Welfare of the Differently Abled Persons Centre. I had to read that about five times to fully understand what’s going on in that title. I was really surprised to see how big the school is, it house about two hundred and fifty kids. Most stay there from the age of 6 to 16 and are given all sorts of treatment along with education then eventually training in trades like, tailoring and making crafts to sell. Like usual, I didn’t know where I was going at first or the name of where I was. But when we walked in to the boys hall first I was stunned. The hall was long not very well lit. There were two rows of bunk beds lined against the walls, almost resembling barracks. There were young boys and teenagers, all them so sweet with expressions of excitement to have visitors. I passed out packages of cookies to each boy and each one expressed such sincere gratitude. Their teacher had told them I’m an American so they all said hello and thank you in English. I was impressed.

When we went to the girls hall to do the same, my heart fell to the floor. To see all these young girls dressed in sari’s and just as excited as the boys I felt so enlightened to just be able to service them. There were more girls than boys by at least fifty and they all sat on top of their beds and patiently waited to be greeted by all of us. When it was time to go, their teacher instructed them to say goodbye and they almost all, in sync, jumped up and waved goodbye. I just wanted to stop and tell each one of the girls that they are beautiful and to be afraid to be a woman in the outside world. I could tell by the way some were looking at me they were curious by my the way I was dressed. I feel so weird to stick out so bad. Yesterday while in another town, a village, we were walking through the town and when passed by a school some girls who were decorating their school ran up to me and were talking but I had no clue what was said. My friend that was walking alongside said, the girls are excited to see you, they’ve never seen a westerner before. That kind of stuff BLOWS MY MIND. I feel so ordinary.

Anyway, I feel ill.

I think today might have been that great awakening I’ve been aching for since I arrived in India. First of all, this may sound silly, but the reality hit me today so hard I was brought to tears. I’m a twenty two year old girl from California, raised in Las Vegas, have only know American culture my whole life and one day I was transplanted to India with absolutely no consolation(besides taking care of my father, but what about work and school that stuff is important too…).

Sunday mornings in Pune are my favorite because the streets are actually quiet. There aren’t motorists or car constantly blaring their horns or people yelling until about 10am or so. My dads friend came to pick me up around 7am to take me for a surprise lol I was up had made tea for my dad and then I left. I hate riding on the back of motorcycles but this morning I hopped on with comfort. It was so nice to ride through the city, pavements still soaked from an all night rain and that cool morning air coated my skin like a mist. I was looking out to the overcast sky and realized, these are the moments that makes you feel invincible. Like a child I was holding on with dear life to the back handle and my other hand was my friends shoulder as we sped down narrow roads and swung around corners as if we were on a race track. With no helmets, just humid air we rode the streets as if they were specially crafted for this ride.

He ended up taking me to the horse race course. It is so big, and there’s a public walk track along inside. The track is approx 1.5 miles around. It is a part of the city I had never been to before and I enjoyed every minute of it, since my friend doesn’t speak very much English we only understand about half of what we say to each other but oddly enough we always have a good time making up broken sentences. Being at the race track still feeling bliss from the motorcycle ride and then getting caught in sunny rain led me to feel thankful. What was I so afraid of?

Later on today though I went on a nice trip with my uncle and more friends to a temple about 20 mins out. It was huge and beautifully constructed. I was given a tray that consisted of flowers, some candies, and coconut. I have a hard time keeping up with whats going on sometimes but it the tray signified an offering. I ate some ash and dirty river water was thrown on me for a blessing. Hinduism is cool but I don’t think it’s for me, I still respect and am learning very much about the religion. All the ritual business has me puzzled. And I think my strongest dislike is having to take off my shoes off before even reaching the gate. I think watching people shit, piss, and spit everywhere has me a little weary. Maybe I’m just prissy.

I think today might have been that great awakening I’ve been aching for since I arrived in India. First of all, this may sound silly, but the reality hit me today so hard I was brought to tears. I’m a twenty two year old girl from California, raised in Las Vegas, have only know American culture my whole life and one day I was transplanted to India with absolutely no consolation(besides taking care of my father, but what about work and school that stuff is important too…).

Sunday mornings in Pune are my favorite because the streets are actually quiet. There aren’t motorists or car constantly blaring their horns or people yelling until about 10am or so. My dads friend came to pick me up around 7am to take me for a surprise lol I was up had made tea for my dad and then I left. I hate riding on the back of motorcycles but this morning I hopped on with comfort. It was so nice to ride through the city, pavements still soaked from an all night rain and that cool morning air coated my skin like a mist. I was looking out to the overcast sky and realized, these are the moments that makes you feel invincible. Like a child I was holding on with dear life to the back handle and my other hand was my friends shoulder as we sped down narrow roads and swung around corners as if we were on a race track. With no helmets, just humid air we rode the streets as if they were specially crafted for this ride.

He ended up taking me to the horse race course. It is so big, and there’s a public walk track along inside. The track is approx 1.5 miles around. It is a part of the city I had never been to before and I enjoyed every minute of it, since my friend doesn’t speak very much English we only understand about half of what we say to each other but oddly enough we always have a good time making up broken sentences. Being at the race track still feeling bliss from the motorcycle ride and then getting caught in sunny rain led me to feel thankful. What the fuck was I so afraid of?

Later on today though I went on a nice trip with my uncle and more friends to a temple about 20 mins out. It was huge and beautifully constructed. I was given a tray that consisted of flowers, some candies, and coconut. I have a hard time keeping up with whats going on sometimes but it the tray signified an offering. I ate some ash and dirty river water was thrown on me for a blessing. Hinduism is cool but I don’t think it’s for me, I still respect and am learning very much about the religion. All the ritual business has me puzzled. And I think my strongest dislike is having to take off my shoes off before even reaching the gate. I think watching people shit, piss, and spit everywhere has me a little weary. Maybe I’m just prissy.

spinz

spinz
I would rather grow up poor and be of good nature. I would rather grow up fortunate and be of good nature. I am seeing what is lacking in our human culture, honesty and integrity.

I can take into consideration people must do what they will in order to survive. But it is a choice isn’t it? I can also take into consideration complexities like, illness, codependency, or addiction. But let us pretend for one moment those issues were not factors. I can put my feelings aside and lend my hand out to you and say ‘join me, let us go out for tea’. I can say this with sincere motives. I just like your company. If you are ill, I will willingly bring a remedy or just give you company to show affection. I do these things without expecting service in return. It is of that saying I just learned recently… pay it forward. I went to the hospital today to visit an uncle who was admitted ( I didn’t understand why) but my other uncle took me and while we walked several blocks in the wrong direction I felt comforted because every time we crossed the road he held my elbow, and by him holding my elbow I felt like a little girl. I felt protected and innocent that I was being guided to cross a busy road. And tonight, this type of behavior showed me that though my uncle and I are virtually strangers, I can still feel the tender affection of genuine kindness. After he realized we were going the wrong direction he bought me some Indian sweets and told me to cover my head it’s going to rain. So as it started drizzling I covered my hands in orange sweets beneath the full moon along his side. For the first time in a long time I just felt safe.

hum-drum

I feel kinda bad sometimes…

lol so this is the second time I ditched a rickshaw driver because he pissed me off. It really bugs me when these dirty rascals try to rip me off because I don’t speak language. My argument is, just cuz I don’t speak hindi don’t mean I’m stupid, stooopit! But I feel bad for not paying for things, it’s my conscience.

So today I racked up a hefty bill driving across town with a friend. We had left some place and she was dropped off at her motor bike and I asked her to direct the guy to take me to the post office. So before she got off the rick she told the man specific instructions to take me to the post office then take me home. So we go and he’s like driving around in circles, I already recognized where most things are so I’m behind him yelling directions and using hand signals and he’s like not giving a fuck. So finally, ten minutes later we end up at the post office but behind the post office and I use my hands to tell him it’s not where he stopped. There was big sign that said post office with an arrow OBV pointing towards the front. So I walked into the gated unknown building and hopped the fence to the front of the building, where the post office was. I owed him Rs. 100. That’s his fault for trying to rip me off. But once I got to the post office it was so full of people and smelly and hot I pulled a diva and walked away. I went home because I was frustrated, my dad was sleeping so I woke him up and started yelling “HOW CAN YOU DEAL WITH ALL THESE FILTHY DUMB ASS PEOPLE!”

lol he looks at me and says ‘This is India, deal with it’ So I apologized… People here are actually really nice. Except for the dumb ones, but dumb people are all over the Earth.

I ended up going to some fort and seriously had Indian Nachos and that made me feel better. Then I had an ice cream and my angst was totally cleared away.

I’m such a baby.

thinking of you

Join me in a moment of silence to celebrate life.

The warmth of an August days breeze wraps around my body as if you are reaching for me.

When I look around and see the power of human ingenuity, I think back to my times of uncertainty. I remember your hands so well, I remember your spirit charged with vivacity. When I saw a doubt or fell to a crawl, your stature was always there to catch me fall.

I knew of women so adorned, so strong. With a life as stunning as her smile, you will always be thought of with exemplar excitement.

so sweet

July 2011
my father has been very ill the last few days. Tomorrow I am taking him to the hospital but just now was so cute because he’s laying in bed and his parkinson’s is on high tonight. He was just laying down squirming’ around with a smile on his face and he says, ‘I just had a dream I was having dinner with my mom and I told her I was happy. She says hello’

2009

2007

I have been feeling so nostalgic lately...
Been driving me kind of crazy. I miss that safe space inside my mind. I am afraid I have been left to damaged & jaded to ever enjoy the innocence of every day life.

--
She always sat tucked away in a small corner to think of all of tomorrows endeavors. I've only begged for the truth, but almost always got a devils grin. What a waste of time. Granted, her breath was always a favorite feature of mine.

YEE!

blinking pigs by little dragon

how sweet this melody.

Restless nights in Sacramento got me all sorts of wild.

Runner's running

So. I've been thinking... Something has got to give.

I've been standing on public corners chasing white street lines like a bastard, render me selfish. This is not who I am, so why does the tyranny of this absent substance keep my head so under water?
I am a child, forgive me.
On the other hand, I have mouth stuffed with hot coal and each finger has been severed by every terrible lie I've told.
Why doesn't she just go away?
My home has been ravished to rubbish and my apathy has arrested me totally fruitless.
I wouldn't even be able to explain why I drew this.

Stuck on the same stare, I'm still haunted. Withdraw your shadow from me please. My memory isn't as lucid as it seems, my little dreams are sore. Fallen way beyond what I ever faithfully needed.

eyes that do see has a heart that does not feel

2/28/2011

I'm a private college in a suburb of Sacramento. All I can really focus on is the nausea I've been living with for the past two days. On the left side of my head there is a muted pounding sound I can't seem to cure... Besides that all I hear is the sound of pounding fingers on key boards in this computer lab. I wish to go home. But all I would do is nothing productive what so ever. Or at all. My mouth is dry. All I know is stale taste of the orange Gatorade I swallowed to cure this twelve hour hang over. But in reality, all I taste is regret and internal dissatisfaction.Not one has won. My body feels sore and my soul seems.... so exhausted. I've become lost and more so distracted. Here I am back at school, pumped with the idea that is the best that I can do. But how is it, I'm no longer sure what it is want to do... Where I've been, or why I'm with you.

As evidence, the residence of a tragic love affair that reigns over this abandoned providence of yesterdays sight.

I want to be superficial like you

in nervous company

Sitting along the western coast,
I wonder if she knows I want Him.
If I knew how to complete a real word with true sentiment, this would be it.
Controversy everywhere.
My arms extended over head,
I'm reaching out to the sunlight.
The Pacific's mist kisses my face and here in space,
I am leaving this empty feeling behind.

it's a shame, we both lived a half fast life
we just do.

Calla calla calla

She lost her moment in a wild fire.
At the river, we each threw a single memory of you hoping the current would cleanse your tiresome eyes and bring her life, once again.
I am saddened by the fact that I lost sight of her affection tonight.

Quick to judge,
I am loathing each minute with an anxious despair.
I never would have thought I would have grown so reluctant
phased by the ridicule
I looked to my rear view mirror and noticed everything has just fallen behind..

I am so exhausted.

ugh

untitled 10

Whispers in transitional bloom are quick to be focused or dismissed
in the varying phases of the moon.
Did you know that the two hours before sunset in every single day, that brings life and light to the seeing eye, are my personal favorite?
Why? Well, simply because, in the world that everyone is accustomed too, is illuminated with the intention of,
Here is the sun, a ball of fire that is the light, sets
to allow it's opposite to, well, shine.
In two hours, the sun, whose light, is prominent, even in complete submission to weather patterns dismay...
Yesterday, and here today
So can tomorrow,
the sun will rise and will give the starry night sky,
two hours of advice
before she rests her eyes.
With all that said, two hours before sunset is my favorite time of day.

Song to won

Slow in memory,
can you retell to me the story of that song?
There, under these lights of sliver and gold
Here, we lasted, pieced together, in lightnings revolt
I promised I've never tell a single soul.
There, under those lights of silver and gold.

As a fool, she sat alone
to wait for a flame that would rekindle the state of unknown.
In yesterday, I would have taken her skin and had it sold.
But slow in memory,
can you retell to me the story of that song?

Let that little dream soar.