I woke up and made books, and then I started my day around 1pm. I wanted to go somewhere, but I didn’t know where, so I went to th West Village - a place that is beautiful, calm, and filled with history - the perfect place for walking.

I needed to walk. I needed to walk to process god knows what, maybe absolutely nothing. I needed it for writing though. When I felt the call to write I found a café with sidewalk tables that reminded me of Europe and say for a while. I watched the people go by, talking about meetings and moving and ‘circling back’ with smoothies and lattes in their hand. I watched the waiters at the bistro caddy-corner to the café move through the motions of serving i know so well, and felt thankful that that wasn’t me today. I watched the clouds traverse the sky because the buildings are still slouching pre-war buildings, merry with all the secrets I hope to know one day.

I wrote. I wrote mostly about writing, and how wonderful it is to dedicate a day to writing. It’s a ritual I think I’ll have for myself once a week, where I dedicate the day to writing, in which I mean meandering and caffeinating outside somewhere, sitting on every park bench, balancing conversations with strangers.

I made my way from West to East how I usually do, making note of everything that’s changed and concluding that it’s mostly the youth. When I got to 1st ave I hopped on the train home because I was hungry and tired and did not feel ready to feel burnout so far away.

I got home and made a safe meal of mine, summer rolls. I took a shower, and then I made a new sketchbook while listening to my favorite music. I meditated, and then I went to sleep.

2. June has been a lovely month of social activity and celebration. Summer spontaneity is coming in at full force. Social situations are a mirror for me, a test in a way to show me how well and how confident I am in myself. I’m doing pretty well so far, but I think tropes of pleasing others comes up sometimes. I feel weak in the knees when I have to turn down plans or explain why I don’t want to do something because I have to work in the morning. I am afraid I won’t be enough for people and they will drop me all together. This, I know is unrealistic, and will continue to work on this as I get to know myself better.

3. I’m entering my Kennedy obsession phase. My mom, being a product of the 60s, is always referencing the Kennedy’s, talking about their conspiracies, relating culture to their specific history. Because of this, the Kennedy’s were always in my awareness but I chose not to care that much. However, I am only coming to terms with now how much influence they had on the second half of the 20th century in not just American politics but also global politics and the western culture. I also want to learn more about America in general, because despite the corruption occurring right now, I do have some faith in this country. I think a lot of people my age tend to forget how young this country is in comparison to the rest of the world, which is why we’re so pompous. But we are the first country of our time to try and make this freedom thing work out. Of course there will be difference in opinion, people disagreeing, arguments, corruption. But America was built on the principal of compromise and free speech, which seems to have been buried under layers and layers of toxic media. I’m tired of it. We can’t stop having faith in our country or else yeah, it will burn to the ground. We have to continue fighting for a better community and I believe we can get there.

I was writing a lot, and now I haven’t been writing a lot, and now I crave to write write write all day.

the telephone

my grandmother can see

the shrooms unfurling

between the deck’s floor planks

I catch the late sunset from the

green leaves turned tangerine

How lucky we are

to live in the valleys

This weekend I started the To Be Magnetic manifestation class and pathway membership after winning the lowest discount code on their wheel of discount code fortune.

I don’t usually fall for these types of things, these classes that promise transformation within, where the result are not visible. However, after my little period of bad luck, I felt a power in myself that said I can handle a big shift. Something in me switched after Mexico. The call to pursue my creative gifts, the message that I have everything I need right in front of me, blared at me like a lighthouse. The program seems to be backed up by hefty science and doesn’t follow the guidelines of other woo-woo manifestation guides that just preach positive thinking and pretending to live a life you don’t have. Something inside me said it’s time to manifest, so I I listened.

So far, I really like the program. The exercises are very practical and give me a sense of ease around life. I already feel more trusting in my actions and of what I want to achieve. The ‘Unblocking’ challenge starts this week; its a six-week long challenge that is supposed to help you retire your neural pathways to make it easier to call in manifestations into your life. I’m curious to see how this goes and am trying not to be skeptical.

*

Saturday night I went to dinner with Kelsey, a longtime friend from my hometown who just quit her job to work on her jewelry-making business full time. The night was everything I wish for the next few years of my life to be; filled with productive and expansive conversation, good food and wine, a relaxed yet energizing ambiance. Having Kelsey as a friend is like having an older sister; it was so reassuring to hear her advice on my fragmented love life and her faith in my talents and abilities as a writer. After leaving her that night, I was reminded of everything I’m capable of and the type of love I deserve to experience in life, both romantically and platonically.

*

I popped on over to the Union Square green market today, as I haven’t been in a while and am trying my best to shop as local as possible (it tastes better anyway). Afterwards, I went to Namaste, a crystal/tarot store on 14th street that has been there forever. It’s kind of corny, but it’s trustworthy and not gimicky in the goop-millennial type spirituality that’s taking over the media. It’s been there for at least a decade, and you can go in and browse as you please without being bothered.

I was on the hunt for a goddess oracle deck, the yellow boxed one specifically as that’s the one I’m used to. They didn’t have it, so I got another one that is 52 cards (the same amount of cards in a playing deck) and a guide book with the history of each goddess archetype. It felt right - if I were to make a goddess deck, it definitely would be this one.

I wandered around the store, glossing over the crystals. I’m not a big crystal person, but the Tiger’s Eye for some reason, mesmerized me. I love the subtlety of the brown and amber swirls - it’s warm and grounding. I decided to go with a bracelet. Jewelry is something that makes me feel safe and may be one something I’m most intentional about in my wardrobe. I put it on immediately after I bought it.

I wet to Washington Square park after and posted up under a tree. I’m working on a new book concept - a book of letters. I have been ruminating about a certain letter all day, so I pulled out my notebook and began writing. Not even two sentences in, a man came over to me and asked me a favor. He works for We’re Not Really strangers and was making a video for their social media. He had kind eyes and a gentle presence. I accepted his request, asking him what he needed me to do.

“You’re going to write a letter to your ex,” he said. I laughed and told him I was already writing a letter to someone in my past, and explained to him how I haven’t been in a concrete relationship so it would be an ex lover. He gave me the option of writing a letter to my dad instead, so I went with it. He filmed me writing which made me very nervous. I also wasn’t sure what direction to go in with the letter. My dad and I don’t have a bad relationship, and are pretty close. As I was writing, I was thinking about my what my dad would say if he actually read it, if he heard me read it. A part of me doesn’t want to know. I know he would cry - it would touch a certain point of vulnerability in him that despite it being a positive letter, would feel uncomfortable for the both of us.

He filmed me reading the letter back to him, and then we chatted for a few minutes. He was from LA and will be in Paris this summer, but hopes to try out living in NYC this fall for a few months. I told him he should, because the differentiation in the seasons are good for the ebb and flow of life.

*

Today was very special.

After work I walked over to a new secondhand bookstore that opened up in the neighborhood. I walk into the spacious shop and immediately feel grounded. There were a few people wandering around browsing semi-full shelves to ambient meditation music. I started from the left side of the store and circled around in a clockwise direction, scanning every shelf. I wasn’t so much looking for something rather than wanting to see what the collection was like, and was pleasantly surprised; more obscure titles from writers like Rilke, Lorca, Nin, Nabokov, Garcia Marquez, etc. There was also a healthy amount of old yoga books and non-western philosophy books, which hold a special place in my heart.

As I made my round, different people went up to the cashier and only worker in the store, asking him about the establishment. Naturally I dropped into every conversation as I weaved in between shelves. “Yeah it’s just me who works here now..” “I haven’t priced everything yet, we’re not technically open..” “You can pay next week if you don’t have cash!” It was really lovely to hear the neighborhood already latching onto this place, treating it with respect. I too was mentally giving the shop a welcome hug as my eyes skimmed titles.

I settled on two books I’ve been meaning to purchase - Lorca’s “Poet in New York” and this older edition of Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass.” When I pulled the Whitman book off the shelf and thumbed through the pages, I found a typewritten syllabus from the New School lodged somewhere in the middle. I smiled to myself and knew that this was finally the right time to purchase, after hesitating many times (due to price, shawdy copies, refraining from impulse buys). There was no price on the book but I figured if it was far too much I’d ask the cashier to hold it until Friday, pay day.

The cashier was sitting in the midst of a pile of books. I hand him my two choices, asking him how much the Whitman book was. “$2,” he replies, “This copy is pretty beaten up.” Shyly I pointed out the syllabus I had found - I was hesitant that maybe he would jack up the price then, but I knew he would be just has happy about it as I was. Holding the paper, he said “Wait.. I know the guy who typed this.” He gestured to the name at the top; Alfred Kazin. He explained to me how he was a famous professor at the New School and wrote a bunch of books in which are highly regarded in the old school New York literary world. “This is my all time favorite book too, the shop is named after it.” He seemed genuinely happy for me, and sold me the book for two bucks.

He then takes the Lorca book and proceeds to tell me that this particular copy was from his personal collection, and he only gave it up because he got an older edition. We shared our appreciation for bilingual poetry books, and I pull out my copy of Roman Poems by Pier Pasolini, which is in both Italian and English. As he flips through he notices a marking denoting the place where I purchased it. “I know the guy who sold you this book,” he said smiling, “I used to work with him. We both left Alabaster to open our own shops. Now he has his shop and I have this one.”

Playing card update:

I found these gold playing cards on the ground today. I was walking to my friend T.K.’s house for a meeting to sequence the poetry book we are working on with a few other friends. I really like these ones because they are flashy (they have $100 bills on the back) and remind me of what Atlantic City may look like.

My luck has been running on E lately. It rained the entire time I was in Mexico, the shower in my house isn’t working, my computer broke, my phone broke, I got played (again) and ghosted, I’ve had bad reactions to marijuana. All that said, I’ve been finding lessons in each happening, patiently and gently reminding myself that the right things will come. And today I find these playing cards.

I picked them up, shoved them into my pocket, and ring T.K.’s bell. Ahmed answers the door; I show him the cards and he pulls an Uno card out of his pocket that he found earlier. We went inside, and immediately got to work organizing the chapters of the anthology he’s curating. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt such peace in collaborating with others. In school, group projects were always pegged as a nuisance; everyone got so egoic over their part and their grades that everyone usually failed to see a common goal. It was so wonderful to be with others who are equally as passionate about writing and collaboration. I’m excited to see how this project will evolve in the coming months.

I’m trying not to get too overwhelmed by all of the possibilities writing has. Of course I want to make a career of some sort where I work on my own time, but the avenues these days are overwhelming. Moving forward though, now that I have all this ~space~ I will figure it out. If I manage my time correctly..

1. Make time for the logistical stuff. Dedicate some time each week to researching outlets to publish writing, brands/people to work with/ people who want to collaborate.

2. Continue writing. On this blog, in my notebook, in my phone notes (though my phone is currently shattered).. keep writing and exploring ideas. Dedicate time to this. Something, the right thing will come.

3. Use social media authentically and effectively. Use it to be vulnerable, to share experimentation. After all, its there, and its there to communicate. This is a tool that is available.

Coming back from Mexico, (and surely in the last two years) I’m finally remembering how to feel and give myself the space to do so before plugging myself up with consumption. I’m learning how to sit in the quiet and ask myself what I need and desire. It’s a process. Most recently, I’ve been asking myself if the life that surrounds me is the one that can work with this sensitive side. So far, I’ve learned that I need more time alone, I need a clean, intentional space (working on it). I need time outside, I need quality time with friends. I need water and fresh food, not that much caffeine. I can handle alcohol, but not too much.