#just-4-thought

Your eyes taste like sadness,

I never knew what to do.

I think I prefer the silence

and that means closing you.

Leaving you out’ the blue.

Leaving you on read.

Leaving you to fix my own heart instead.

Wow, thank you. This is such a positive, good-vibed question! Have to do the favorite memories in random order though. Knowing me I’d take way too much time nit-picking which memory was actually better.

1. When my first girlfriend first-time told me she loved me. I was already early mid-twenties and I had never heard those words so sincerely spoken before by a girl whom I deeply loved. I was high as a kite for days. Even now my heart swells reliving the memory.

2. The days of my youth spent at my grandfather’s farm during summer. I have incredibly fond memories of my grandparents. But also the tree climbing; the cherry picking and immediately eating till my stomach hurt; the same with the raspberries, strawberries and brambles; the dogs running around to play; building tree houses, and elaborate ‘traps’ made of yarn. The whole family from my mother’s side would gather there each Sunday. And my two sisters and I would stay there each Wednesday as well. 

3. When we went to a kennel to get a Jack Russel companion for our old dog. My younger sister and my mother were immediately fixated on a very handsome puppy. But I had dangled my hand over the fence with the idea that the first pup to bite me would be the one. A brave dog. So of course I wanted the little pup that came dashing toward me and immediately bit me (playfully, mind you). Alas, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince my mother and sister to pick him over the distant handsome boi, and was already so sad because clearly the bitey pup was meant for us. But then when we asked the breeder said they were gonna use prettyboi™ for breeding! So that’s how we ended up with Diesel. Haha, we asked for a male dog and the breeder had to pick him up and check if he wasn’t a girl. He was so smol. Absolute coward too haha, so I got that wrong. But he’s the sweetest, most affectionate dog you can imagine. 

4. Each holiday spent with my friends. We used to rent a villa somewhere in Europe for two weeks and then do a roadtrip to get there. My wildest stories originate from those vacations. Utter madness.

                                                                                                                                                   How the colors taste, smell, sound, and feel

Blue - is the taste of water after a sweaty endeavor, so enthralled in a task you were, you’d forgotten how humans crave. The liquid hits your lips and reminds you of thirst at the exact moment it satisfies it. You drink a little too fast and it spills on your cheeks. You wipe away the excess and take a breath, so deep even your muscles sigh. It is the goosebumps that prickle on your arms and neck. It is the exposed skin in winter. It’s the feel of your toes when stepping into a pool in summer.

Red - is the smell of dinner in the oven when you are a bit too hungry to wait for it to finish cooking. When you don’t want to know another minute without its taste. It is craving the warmth on your lips. Your body vibrates in anticipation. You grit your teeth, clench your muscles, even your mouth seems to salivate. It is the first waft of hot air from a freshly opened oven. It is distant screams that may belong to terror, or is it delight? It is a sting from an insect or a first kiss.

Yellow - is the feel of the sun on your skin on a breezy late-spring day. It’s the excitement of intermittent pops of open sky between the marching clouds. It’s the little smile you can’t help but feel escape the corners of your mouth when your hear the happiness on your best friend’s voice as they recount their day. It is the smell of sunscreen and campfire smoke. It is the laughter that hits deep in your stomach.

Green - a mix of yellow and blue - is the sound of the leaves lightly crashing into each other. It is the sound of a room full of people, not speaking, enthralled in their work - keyboards clicking rhythmically, pencils scratching against paper. It is walking down a familiar trail, finding fulfillment in the peaceful forward steps. It is every time we learn and grow. It’s 72 degrees underneath the shade of a thick and gnarled tree. The smoothness of a freshly fallen leaf and the stories between the crevices of the bark.

Purple - a mix of red and blue - is the taste of buttercream icing on top of a cupcake. It smells like the mixed fruit aroma of an artificially scented candle. It is the five minute dream between the snooze button and the second alarm - when you know you are asleep but will the last little bits of some nonsense story to play out. Purple is a hug or a pile of unkempt blankets in the first chilly days of fall. It is a purring cat on your lap when your ankles are a bit exposed. Purple is the last grasp of each day and the tender release of night. It is wild and soft and dreamlike.

Orange - a mix of yellow and red - is the feel of steam against your cheeks. It is all the chirping birds gossiping in early summer and the bugs squealing back, trying to win the right to speak. Orange is the moment your feet and arms grow tired, yet you set your jaw firmly in place and fill your muscles with grit. It is warm wax from a recently extinguished candle, it’s the crunch of dried leaves beneath your feet in the fall. It is loud and not quite passionate as red or excited as yellow. It is instead a subdued determination.

Meg, you are a wonderful person and so much more. May you have many more. Hoping and praying for you for the best, always. 💙

just-4-thought

Why I write

I write because I love to read

Because I love to adventure

But with a warm blanket and a good cup of tea.

I write because I love to fall in love

Or save the world

And travel space and time.

I write because I want to be a hero

Because I want to be a villain

Or somewhere in between.

I write because I can do anything

Be anyone

See anywhere

Even when I can’t do much of anything

“Does it involve coming in through the door and not the window?” Charlie asks.

“Nope! I found out that love has shapes.”

I pause. “Shapes.”

“Did you know that love comes in triangles?!”

Charlie goes still on the couch. 

“Ah. Yes, yes I did.”

“That means we’re a love triangle cuz we’re all the bestest friends and! I love you both,” Jay flings out with the pure joy and truth that can only come out of a Jay who is eleven and so very jaysome with it. 

Charlie buries her face in her hands. “And you’ve told people this, haven’t you.”

“Of course,” Jay boasts, shocked Charlie would think otherwise. 

The world is not flat As was proved centuries back So why don’t you understand All your hate will only come back Because what you give has only one track  It goes and it will come And you will have to be the constant  There is just no escaping that If you want something better And you can get so much better All you have to do is send a little good When the cycle is complete You will have a great treat  Because as opposed to popular belief  This world adds more love than hate  And don’t you want to belong to the better one Of the four letter strength?