Sporadically Calculated: six

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…

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,…

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…

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;…

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…

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…

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…

Crows

/written circa May 2015 Donish sent her a text earlier in the day, asking her if she would care to join him in basking in the sunlight and making artwork. The quirky text makes her stomach a little upset, so she chooses to grace his inquiry with silence. Her unsettled stomach comes from fear at…

Sporadically Calculated: four

Holly let her mind daydream about climbing up a hill in Golden Gate park and writing up there, but the August, San Franciscan afternoon was too chilly and windy, and when she did decide to take some sort of adventure around the city, the underground tunnel for MUNI was closed, and she was forced to…

Sporadically Calculated: three

Holly’s eyes opened at ten. Too late to go the 10:00am yoga class, she lingered for an hour and half on various interruptions of social media, and at half past eleven, she decided to take a slow-paced, leisurely stroll downtown to a familiar studio: wooden floors, and large glass windows. Her muscles woke up slowly…