rawedout
Monday, November 24, 2014
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Friday, September 5, 2014
novel picks from august
“You have to start over. That's what they say. But life is not a board game, and losing a loved one is never really 'starting over.' More like 'continuing without.'”
“I wondered if the fire had been out to get me. I wondered if all fire was related, like Dad said all humans were related, if the fire that had burned me that day while I cooked hot dogs was somehow connected to the fire I had flushed down the toilet and the fire burning at the hotel. I didn't have the answers to those questions, but what I did know was that I lived in a world that at any moment could erupt into fire. It was the sort of knowledge that kept you on your toes.”
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
what dreams may come
the only thing, I should always remember."
"Which is?"
"I forgot."
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
chromatics
I can't remember it went straight to my head
I kept a bottle by the foot of the bed
I put a pillow right on top of my head
...but I killed for love
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Thursday, July 24, 2014
before sunrise
Friday, July 4, 2014
yiayia fani
My grandmother died peacefully on June 23rd, 2014. She stayed awake long enough for us to go say our goodbyes and to feel her warm hands for the very last time. She left my grandfather with his duties early Sunday morning. Reminding him of our upcoming birthdays and explaining how to keep the garden healthy for the summer. I’m not completely sure if she had fixed her own bed that morning; but I imagine her doing so – even with her frail body. Her last meal was a couple of Swiss Chalet french fries. Chewing slowly as my cousin showed her pictures from the 90s. She spoke to her sister that very same day. She told me to change my nail polish colour to a nice light pink. I’m not sure where I’m going with this but I guess as I slowly wrap my head around these thoughts, I’m starting to recognize the steps she took before her passing. She was a committed woman who never left anything unfinished. Maybe she knew it was her day to die, or maybe she behaved like this every day of her life but no one really noticed until Sunday.
And as my grandfather remains heartbroken I remain shattered for him.
I love you Yiayia, enjoy your infinite garden. – Michelleche
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love
Thursday, June 5, 2014
everything is illuminated . 2
“From space, astronauts can see people making love as a tiny speck of light. Not light, exactly, but a glow that could be mistaken for light--a coital radiance that takes generations to pour like honey through the darkness to the astronaut's eyes.
In about one and a half centuries--after the lovers who made the glow will have long been laid permanently on their backs--metropolises will be seen from space. They will glow all year. Smaller cities will also be seen, but with great difficulty. Shtetls will be virtually impossible to spot. Individual couples, invisible.
The glow is born from the sum of thousands of loves: newlyweds and teenagers who spark like lighters out of butane, pairs of men who burn fast and bright, pairs of women who illuminate for hours with soft multiple glows, orgies like rock and flint toys sold at festivals, couples trying unsuccessfully to have children who burn their frustrated image on the continent like the bloom a bright light leaves on the eye after you turn away from it.
Some nights, some places are a little brighter. It's difficult to stare at New York City on Valentine's Day, or Dublin on St. Patrick's. The old walled city of Jerusalem lights up like a candle on each of Chanukah's eight nights...We're here, the glow...will say in one and a half centuries. We're here, and we're alive.”
In about one and a half centuries--after the lovers who made the glow will have long been laid permanently on their backs--metropolises will be seen from space. They will glow all year. Smaller cities will also be seen, but with great difficulty. Shtetls will be virtually impossible to spot. Individual couples, invisible.
The glow is born from the sum of thousands of loves: newlyweds and teenagers who spark like lighters out of butane, pairs of men who burn fast and bright, pairs of women who illuminate for hours with soft multiple glows, orgies like rock and flint toys sold at festivals, couples trying unsuccessfully to have children who burn their frustrated image on the continent like the bloom a bright light leaves on the eye after you turn away from it.
Some nights, some places are a little brighter. It's difficult to stare at New York City on Valentine's Day, or Dublin on St. Patrick's. The old walled city of Jerusalem lights up like a candle on each of Chanukah's eight nights...We're here, the glow...will say in one and a half centuries. We're here, and we're alive.”
Monday, May 26, 2014
Monday, May 5, 2014
a little delicate
The moments I threw away to doubt and fear.
I’ve found a place to put them.
Today, I’m feeling a little different.
I’m feeling a little delicate.
I’m going to put those moments away, tuck them behind my mind.
I’m going to enjoy every beautiful thing we build together.
- mf
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