archiving + dreaming

i think the piece that feels harder is trusting my own gut. my own truth. i get so easily distracted by my desires, my hopes, my fears- and my truth feels cloudy.

today my truth is: i no longer wanna do this with you. i feel hurt. i feel lied to. i feel affirmed in my truth. i feel like your inability to live honestly and authentically has created a disingenuous foundation for what we “committed to.” i feel like i gave this my all, and i don’t know if i regret it (i don’t). i feel like i don’t know if i can give much more.

what we have is beautiful. what we’ve built. what we’ve been gifted, and given, brought into, enveloped— by this community. i don’t know how to go back.

with clean sheets, twinkle lights, sage burned, and intentional conversations 😌

spontaneity, curiosity, and deep deep joy.

cravings, unnerving cravings for futures so real you can almost touch.

fingertip on fingertip, tracing inches of skin, naked in waves of pleasure and intimacy

this is what forever feels like

raw honesty it burns your stomach, burns all the way up to your chest- you’re on fire

visions of dark meadows, open land, fresh air, and the family you’d die for

where unconditional isn’t spoken, its shown

love in action: you are present

you are here- listening. to the poetry that I move in

i am worshipped here

you are in awe of me.

i am seen here.

you ache to understand me

to understand my sadness, and the way my heart is melancholic

you ache to understand why it hurts

when you don’t show up for me…

when I wait for love in action

I yearn for you: present

for you: not potential

yearn for a life fulfilled

a life I’m not too exhausted to live in

to exhausted to love and honor myself

too exhausted to demand to be seen

understood

ached for

Sometimes fighting is exhausting. Sometimes I just need a break.

These days I’m not alone for more than 20 minutes a day. But when I’m alone the sadness is hard and intense, and mixed with so many angry feelings.

Salem has fought so hard for his short life, and never once has he given up. He’s the strongest (he learned it from Sombras) kitty I know. And he deserves a chance at a long and fulfilling life- wrapped in my arms…or in his favorite chair tucked in the corner of the living room.

theres something about being plucked out of your environment and then put back into it that makes you realize everything that's happening all at once.

i've been dog/cat sitting in berkeley (my utopia + where my fantasies like to live in for some odd reason) and at first it was hard. so hard to be away from everyone + everything that needs me. all the animals. the house. the tasks. the pressing pressing tasks. so important. so urgent. it was hard because i knew that if i was gone it wouldn't get done, or it wouldn't get done well.

but then after 1 day i settled into it and the exhaustion hit- that bedridden exhaustion that is relentless. that keeps you from experiencing any semblance of joy- and then friends come around and make everything feel a tiny bit better and remind you that doing mindless things is sweet and simple. and simple is great, and perhaps do-able. i loved it. i love berkeley and what it represents. i get to be this version of me who's only responsibility is resting and spending quality time with others. why is that so hard for me? why do i have to be forced into it every. single. time.

so now im back home- and the urgency is back. this feeling like i'm always running out of time. i look at the clock and its 8 when really it should be 5. and i dont know how we lost four hours so easily. and my surroundings are stressing me out because they're just constant reminders of the tasks. the never ending tasks that must be done by me because no-one else can. and yet there's two adults living here, but only I am capable. why?

i so quickly felt over stimulated by the tasks + expectations. the lack of alone time. of cleanliness. the lack of time, and rest. i spend about 2 hours 1/2 on the phone mediating broke relationships between two family members and i tell myself that it has to be me. i'm the only one who can do it. after the final click i started crying alone in the living room surrounded by so many tasks and clutter and i looked at the time and it's almost 11 so i need to be in bed for work tomorrow. and i cry and open spotify and pull up je te laisserai des mots by patrick watson because that's my new sad song. but it's not just a sad song. beach baby by bon iver was my sad song for a really long time, but now it's this song -- but not because it's sad, because it's what the inside of my heart feels like. constantly. and when i listen to this i feel like i'm heard.

I didn’t sign up to be the one doing more work all the time. I didn’t sign up to carry the brain work of this business, to be the only one thinking ahead and trying to carry this business forward. To be honest I also didn’t sign up to start a business with someone with completely different priorities than me. I think you assume that your priorities will be aligned for the most part, obviously it won’t be perfect all the time, but I didn’t sign up for this.

First day of a new job ☺️ it’s been starting to feel like summer.

I woke up this morning with this anxiety and anticipation — of knowing I was about to enter a chapter of my life with all these new characters — and with absolutely no clue the role that they’ll have in my life.

I chose this job in particular because I wanted to live a different life by making small changes. I wanted to BART and walk to work so I can be connected to my surroundings again and listen to music more. Romanticize my mornings. Fall asleep on the route home. Be among strangers. Sip on some coffee. Take more pictures. Maybe journal some more.

So I am hoping this leads to more walks, more joy, more connection. 🤞🏽 first day, let’s see how this journey goes!