I want to do everything, be everything.
I want to be a dozen people before I die, each one walking away with a pocket full of life, with drawers full of postcards and fossils and candies and receipts.
I want to be so full of stories that when I open my mouth, they spill out like coins, like jewels, clattering and bright.
I want it all: the limelight and the laurels, the cold steel of ambition and the soft hands of love, the honking of cars and the music of birds. I want to press my lips to every experience until my mouth bruises, to gather every bright fragment of what’s possible and sew them into a quilt big enough to cover the sky, twice.
I want to write and to be read, to be alone and to be adored, to slip away into the woods and to sit at the head of the table. I want to feast until I am merry, to sleep until I am new, to run and return.
I am a greedy, bratty child, a cat down to its last life, a woman with her hands full of dust and diamonds. I want to do everything, be everything, to burn up and to endure. It is not enough to live—I must devour. I must create and transform, with hands always reaching, then holding on too tight.
I will never forgive the men who roared about bodily autonomy when it came to mandatory vaccines but stayed absolutely silent when it came to the fight for women’s bodily autonomy this election. It was never about that to you and your inaction and passivity failed us.
we have to take care of each other. we have to drive our friends to the airport & buy each other coffee without sending $4 venmo requests after. we have to listen like we used to before “trauma-dumping” made us scared to talk to our friends we have to love each other we have to
offering this in case it’s useful to anyone: when I’m especially scared, it helps me to remind myself that probably all of my women ancestors had harder lives than I’ve had. & their strength is in me, is part of the fabric of who I am & what I can perhaps do
There have been times in my life where I wanted something, didn’t get it, then felt bad… Only for me to end up with something better. When you experience this enough, it changes your perspective during hard times. You accept that things don’t happen to you, they happen for you.
I have this annoying habit when processing a new album of immediately gravitating toward bombastic songs with clear hooks & addictive melodies and then later down the line realising all my true favourites are the deep cuts I could barely even remember after the first few listens