The cycle begins again, it seems as if this is all I've known- the scare of strange streets gradually losing their unfamiliar sheen and becoming something more acquainted, closed doorways and corner shops giving their silent nods in greeting as I pass. This season will soon be coming to a close, though, and my time here will end. On everbody's lips is the same question, and I have it now on my own- where will I go? Washington state, I ponder, or should I try to stay in this city that is still slightly new? I have yet to truly learn even a niche, which I would dearly love to do (it's a lovely place, I think)- but who knows! Not I, for sure, and maybe that should be disconcerting but I am currently inclined to let the current carry me where it will, and without too many intentions I will say, "To hell with the consequences, I will have to learn to love another small space of this enormous world."
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
1 comment:
my boyfriend and i often complain about our shitty lives and our time in ohio, but then we're able to revel in the fact that neither of us are tied down and we could move anywhere at anytime. i'm glad you can embrace the uncertainty, and the potential for freedom and release.
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