I Built A Home Between Airplane Rides Across The World

FA190DD2-41C5-4958-8EF2-F939713BB786

By the age of thirteen I had been in six different schools, staying in each for up to three years at the most. It wasn’t because I was bullied or because I couldn’t make any friends but it was rather because my family just moved around a lot. Along with every school that changed so did the house we lived in and the street I had grown familiar to or the neighbors that were always nice. Continue reading

Advertisements

Indigo

2DB576A4-DC0E-48BB-87CE-72DC52A3F72A

I told you I could love you no more. So there you went turning your dreams into dust, mistakes choking up chimneys of all the things we could be. And you wished to scream in the face of mortality, I feared death almost as equally. Continue reading

I Fear The Concept Of Non-existence

3CB00B99-A681-47AB-BEB2-F83CF167E763

I was listening to Shelly Kagan talk about death on a podcast. He said, “How can non-existence be a bad thing if I’m not there to experience it”.

I’ve always had a very complicated, entangled relationship with the idea of “non-existence” the whole general concept of it makes me shudder but at the same time it’s almost an anomaly in itself something that’s inviting, and seemingly decorated by the curiosity that lingers in my mind at the mention of this word. Continue reading

My Eighth Grade French Teacher

B43A388A-F8FC-47B6-9C1F-0052B8F60C5A

My eighth grade French teacher smoked cigarettes out back near the football field every morning. Heaving in heavy breaths he’d cough like his throat was on fire, fumes in his lungs. He drank like the skies inside his eyes had fallen, clouds of silver smoke on his lashes would linger until they looked more like fragile tears wiped by trembling thumbs before brought into account by the twenty students who wanted more than anything to leave the classroom they were stuck in.

Continue reading

Ink

0051B2FF-475D-42F8-AAD1-C46112428DBA

Boys with lungs collapsed and egos bruised, if you love her then you are lucky because the girls like to ride their bikes down paths carved in childhood scars, picture perfect smiles framed on walls melted like crayon wax in colors that stuck to the wallpaper of her bedroom. Had paper thin dreams that she learned would blow away with the wind in her chest someday. She often folds into herself until salty tears spill like waterfalls carved in her cheekbones. And if you dream about her than you are lucky. Because most of us lost her before she even waved, hello. She walks in fear of leaving behind footprints and if you love her than you are lucky. Because most of us are too drowned out to believe that she’s still got the fire in her heels. Paper dreams ablaze, she brings them back to life. So if you love her, I hope you know that you are lucky.-H

Labels, As I Perceive Them.

BA62A735-4058-4591-B165-158191C19F22

Labels as I perceive them:

Labels can be an odd combination ranging from constricting air tight jars embedded with vague ideas of who you are or who you appear to be, then falling straight into classification of similar people to help alleviate friendships, blooming into concepts about your very being and boosting the process of self discovery, apparently.

Continue reading