"As we drive along this road called life, occasionally a gal will find herself a little lost. And when that happens, I guess she has to let go of the coulda, shoulda, woulda, buckle up and just keep going."

-Carrie Bradshaw

When my itunes goes on shuffle and all of a sudden I'm sunken back into...
everything. Then I sulk in my own self pity every single fucking day.

Do you ever think of me?

Probably not. I know you don't.
So... here's to moving on.
Here's to going forward.

no phone, no ipod, nothing but my silence and me
waking up, getting up, walking to work, working, walking home

silence

within the silence of my own mind
somewhere between work and going home



“You asked me who I thought I was before. I said, maybe I was a fish because I love water and you said, you thought a mermaid, maybe. If you were a mermaid, you said, if you were a mermaid, I was the sea.”
— Francesca Lia Block

"At the temple, there is a poem called "Loss", carved into the stone. It has three words...but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read "Loss"... Only feel it."
-Memoirs of a Geisha

Take me out tonight
Where there's music and there's people
Who are young and alive
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I haven't got one anymore

Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people
And I want to see life
Driving in your car
Oh please don't drop me home
Because it's not my home, it's their home
And I'm welcome no more

Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
And in the darkened underpass
I thought Oh God, my chance has come at last
But then a strange fear gripped me
And I just couldn't ask

Take me out tonight
Oh take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I haven't got one
No, I haven't got one

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes in to us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well the pleasure, the privilege is mine

There is a light that never goes out

staying up til 5am because sleeping isn't easy anymore
making mixes for no one in particular
maybe someone will stumble upon this and like it enough to keep

"i dreamt of london and you were there"


xoxo

Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
And as I climb into an empty bed
Oh well. Enough said.
I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
Oh ...
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
See, the sea wants to take me
The knife wants to slit me
Do you think you can help me ?

The only thing I wanted to hear you say was,"Please don't cry, just go to sleep."

my sadness is slowly turning into anger

I think the only way to move on from here is to literally move away.
I don't think I can live in this city with you here.
We will both grow up and blow away, these past 2 years will be a bad memory
and one day it won't matter anymore.

I don't want to be here when you move on.
I don't want to be around when I hear stories of you and whoever.
I want to be alone, a wallflower, disappeared.

playlist: Rachel's, Mogwai, The Stone Roses, The Smiths, Yann Tiersen, The xx's

3:25 am, no sleep.
I just wanna cry but my body won't allow it.
What a wonderful weekend spoiled by the truth.
I think I'm sad or maybe numb.
I'm unsure nowadays, but who cares.


I just want you to know,
I loved you always, maybe not completely and utterly,
but I do, I did, I always will.


"Maybe I had said, something that was wrong, can I make it better with the lights turned off?" -The XX's

The other day my friends and I, a total of seven of us, were stranded on a boat on the Chicago River. After the police AND the US Coast Guard both came to our rescue, I was the only sober one willing to ride to pick up our friend's car almost 3 miles down the street. As I was driving alone to pick up my friends, I thought of old memories. I generally always think of my past when silence and my mind are alone. Sometimes happy, sad, recently, childhood. Just memories I'll try to remember so I make sure my life isn't lost within the thrills of wanting to be happy and "grown up". Two extreme memories came to mind.
It's just, I never know which one to say first though, the happy or the sad?

My sad memory:
My father would always convince me and my brothers to help him on the farm every Saturday morning or on summer vacations. Our bribe would be with promising us ice cream at some local gas station on the way home. Working hours in the hot sun, driving around a tractor and pulling out weeds for some 30 cent ice cream at a gas station? Whether it was the guilt of our father actually asking us a favor or the sake we were that naive into thinking ice cream was worth it all, we'd go.
Some of my best childhood memories started at my father's farm. I learned how to drive in a moving vehicle for the first time in a tractor. We'd run to the next farm over and chase the peacocks into the trees, eat the fruit from the trees, pee by bushes and hope no hillbillies would see us from their houses.
So anyway, I remember one time being there, my father's crops didn't develop and produce the way he expected. I remember something about the rain and how it was too much water for the season on what he was trying to grow. This Korean yellow fruit. Tasted like a hybrid of an apple, pear, and honeydew. It was a smaller melon, you could eat the outside, and the inside was white and juicy. I remember my mother picking up one, dusting it off with her hands and shirt, biting into it and handing it to me. My brothers and I promised to come back and help my father harvest what we could salvage and just keep for us instead of trying to sell the sad amount we'd find. So the next Saturday, my brothers and I clothed in our "farm clothes" went in and packed a large ice cooler with whatever fruit we would find. My father expected a little more so his trailer he brought behind the car was now just empty space. He insisted on strapping the large cooler on the trailer since we had no room in our car. My big brother fought him on this being a terrible idea, but there's no winning with my father. (He was the stubborn, hard headed kind.) Not even 20 minutes down the street, my father takes a turn at an intersection, and off goes the cooler. Breaks into two and all the melon flies out on the street and smashes everywhere.
At that moment, you think, should I cry, say sorry, ignore the whole situation and stay quiet? My father pulls over immediately, gets out of the car, slowly walks into the street and picks up the cooler pieces. My big brother says something like, "don't you guys dare say anything" as my father opens the door and sadly gets into his seat. We drive in silence and I look at my defended father with so much sympathy, I truly had nothing to say despite my brother. My father gave up farming after this, we still have the acres of land, but I know there's nothing there.

My happy memory,
My mother loved the beach. Palm trees, shells, everything and anything would remind you of the ocean and it's surroundings. I remember she would always want me to go to the beach and shell hunt with her. She would collect her favorite shells, drill holes in them and hang them in her car. It was dorky, innocent, but that was her.
So, with that back story, she was a super social, well liked person at her shop. Her customers would give her random gifts and food all the time, it was a pretty common thing to see when I would come to the store. One day I walked to the refrigerator and I see a new magnet on the freezer door. It was a beach scenery with glued on sand and baby shells, above it the words were printed, "LIFE'S A BEACH". And I couldn't help but laugh out loud and ask my mom if she knew what it meant. Her response? "Yes Esther, it means life is beautiful like the beach." In that moment, my heart sunk into my stomach, I smiled and said, "Yeah mom." She didn't understand the play on words with the cuss word bitch. I always think of this memory and giggle to myself. My mom was the best. My diamond in the rough.