It’s a tag I’ve had on my Tumblr for ages. It’s a Pinterest board that has existed for over a year. It’s a slow sinking in.
Collegiate, n: of one who’s next few years are owned by an education board and deadlines.
When I was younger, I thought that twelfth grade was college. I was disappointed to learn that I would be in school longer. This frustration stuck with me through most of highschool. I wanted to write. I still want to write. And yet here I am.
I’ve been asked by several people why on earth I would attend college. I’m studying film, hoping to write scripts someday and falling in love with the camera in the process. Why, they ask. Why would you leave your house for four years and go study something you could teach yourself?
Continue reading Collegiate
i named my poetry journals after a country i have never seen. i guess because of the wanderlust, or maybe because the name represents something bigger, something beyond.
i named them all ‘my skye,’ after the isle. it’s the faerie-dream i caught, once. and i see pieces of it everywhere. every time i cram my sock-covered feet against the floor of the plane as it runs into the air, thin metal tube, i start looking.
this is what i saw.
Continue reading my italia
And why I deem it worth using up the rest of my voice to talk about it in the car after I stayed up too late watching the 50th anniversary at a friend’s house. And why I deem it worth writing about today, when my head feels like styrofoam thanks to allergies (and thus shall all hate mail be forwarded). To be clear: I’ll try to avoid spoilers in this post and speak in generalizations.
Continue reading Why I Choose Doctor Who
Sometimes I can see the world lit up.
Sometimes I can name pencils, and colors, like “handwritten notes” or “Saturday morning” or “ocean brontide” or “laughing because you know.” Sometimes I can laugh at how small I am, at the stripes of color in rock that span and double until I am in a mere thunderclap. Languages, new words I cannot pronounce, lift my head and sharpen my eyes as I try to taste the sound.
Sometimes words are so easy.
Continue reading Flickering Lights