in silence

Month: August, 2017

summer

monsoon rain and temperate rainforest drizzle;
on an island cradled
by the sea, every rainfall is salt trails down
a navy blue backpack.
how have i not tired
of salt water skimming
my skin?

“no, no you decide. because giving is giving right?”

looking back

reading through the sporadic thoughts that i jotted down in this space over the past couple of months and remembering the headspace that i was in as i filed all those lines away. recalling a coded taste that only i would recognize looking back. that one text message about the sky that really meant, “i still think of you when i see beauty in the world but i don’t know how to speak to you anymore, i’m not sure if i’m allowed to anymore”. how did i ever let things get that way? what decisions will i make moving forward? who will i be in 3 months? what are the things that will matter to me, what are the things that i will invest myself in? it feels like, perhaps, all we will be able to say soon is sorry. sorry, i’m so sorry.

如今

心想:若现在觉得利用英语写作太难,我能不能试着利用华语写作呢?当我用英语写作时,清晰度不知不觉已变成了我的默认目标。当我写着这些话时,我心里已在嘲笑我自己,觉得自己的华语程度不够好,过几天一定会放弃的。但放弃也好,至少有想过,有试过。

i barely have words anymore. some days i work at wringing them out anyway, hoping that maybe that will bring them back to me. today as i walked back home from a friend’s going away party, i wondered what forgiveness means. during the walk home i felt some sense of peace, like all of this was in the past and it didn’t matter because i’ve made it out okay regardless. does forgiveness mean i can do all of this again though? some days it makes me feel like i’m strong enough to stick it out again if i still believe in the dreams and worlds that we have built together. i’m stubborn enough that i know no one else can make this decision for me but myself. that regardless of what the world says time and time again, i will refuse to believe that a generic answer could work. i suppose it’s because i believe that i’m stronger than this. that a part of me believes i can and might still be willing to press on despite everything that has transpired. do i still want this? do i really still want this??

this summer i’ve been surrounded by mountains and oceans. i sit by the waterfront and my heart feels full but nothing comes to my pen. i wonder if it is because my mind is so overrun by other thoughts. every word that comes to me now feels too thought through, like i can no longer let lines run freely through my tongue, through my fingers. i miss that, i miss that.

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