Girls on the road

Dear Friend,

I just got done watching this film titled “Boys On The Side.”

In so many ways the characters represented glimpses of our personalities. The four walls that surrounded us became our temporary home. We found ourselves broken into pieces… trying to mend one another with words and stories….

I wish I could take a peak into your life right now and see where you are now in your journey.

Me? I’m living the life I told you that I wanted…and each day I find myself a little more.

As I continued to watch the film, I recognized something from my memory. You were the breeding ground for my healing.

I no longer ache. When I’m down, I hear your voice tell me it’ll be okay.

I pray our paths cross soon.


Paid attention

After watching so many films in one week, I can’t help but view life in the lenses of a director.

I was on a crowded subway heading back home. There was a young girl sitting across from me. She was in her school uniform which consisted of a dark navy skirt and a light blue polo. All of her classmates had flats on but she had kitten heels. Her hair was blonde, her skin a light brown and her eyes were green. She was as beautiful as any pre teen girl could be.

I began to think of my niece.

The bus got more and more crowded. Everyone was rushing home from school or work.

I began to look around at the different types of people around me.

A woman was speaking Spanish out loud. It sounded beautiful over the railing sounds of the train.

Suddenly the area cleared up between myself and the school girl. She was looking right into my eyes and smiling. I looked away and then right back.

She was still starring and smiling.

I smiled back…a bit confused. And a little afraid of her gaze.

We all want to be beautiful until pretty hurts.

The beauty queen pre-teen had mascara and blush on.

Half of my face was covered by my baseball cap and my hair was in French braids. A loose fitted t shirt that read “misfit.” In my most casual appearance, trying to avoid the awareness of others.

When you catch every eye and you hear the smuckering sounds of men’s lips you begin to wonder if attention truly pays…or if it devalues you.

Had we exchanged any words. I would’ve asked her this.

The unconscious

I had this dream that I really wanted to do this thing and then I got scared.

I was on top of a sky scraper in nyc and as soon as I started doubting myself I fell off.

The fall was in slow-mo. I saw the city skyline.

The city of dreams.

The center of the earth.

Why am I so afraid of believing in myself when I’ve gotten this far?

People will ask you for money, ask to borrow this and that from you, ask for you knowledge on certain things …. and as soon as you show that you’re human sometimes and can trip up…they act out.

I have to learn an important lesson in life…. when friends ask me for money… that’s when the friendship ends.

It’s just sad…everyone I knew were wolves in sheeps clothing.

Sometimes the most beautiful places are filled with the shittiest people. It works just the opposite too.

I have only a few hours left in this cottage. I’m gathering my belongings and my thoughts.

I’m going to miss running to the beach everyday and biking around the farm. There is so much natural beauty in this place that it’s almost unfair to look at.

I spent most days alone. Exercising, reading, taking notes, walking and cooking. I’m guilty for spending an extra hour on my phone when I could’ve just sat outside.

Truth be told, what’s worse than the flocking number of wasps in this town is the actual wasps. Hah. Yes.

I don’t know what’s more annoying…. having a bee the size of your thumb circle around the book you’re reading OR constantly going out into the town and being referred to as exotic.

“You’re so exotic. You’re from Iraq? You look just like my Persian friend.”

“Wow! You’re from Ireland? You look just like my friend from the UK.”

Good thing there is wine. I always come back with comebacks that are made for night time television.

Between waking up to a new insect in my bed every morning and getting cut in line because I look like the staff, this was the most beautiful summer I’ve ever had.

I did things that I’ve never tried before. I woke up to the sun and fell asleep to the moon.

With all of this time in enchanted beauty and solitude I didn’t figure out all of the puzzling questions I had in my head… no…

But something did happen towards the end… that I just can’t explain in writing.

I’m ready.


The Hamptons remind me of a suburban-farm town my family moved in to when I was 12.

Covington is now a diverse and populated city. Around the time I had moved, there was only a Fred Meyer and one traffic light. There was a population of certain kinds of people that felt threatened by the new move of upcoming middle class immigrants.

We never felt welcomed there. Whether it was due to the slue of hate crimes post 9/11 or because it was my first taste of the middle class. Before this it was an old dirty flat that roomed 7 people.

Covington had beautiful parts. There were alpaca farms, horses and lots of trees. I enjoyed taking walks alone. Sometimes in the day and sometimes at night.

I just got back from riding my bike to the grocery store. On the ride I began to reminisce of this and how things have drastically changed since… and yet, how certain things still feel the same.

I’m still alone in a place that doesn’t feel like it’s mine.

I don’t know … life seems to cycle like seasons do. It’s always changing but I’m confronted with same storm.