Lightness.

I don't want to be frozen here forever. I need to breathe. I want to move, I want to swim.

mkp.

I Sink, I Swim.

I have been battling many sicknesses the past month. It all began with a ruptured ear drum, paving the way for a bacterial infection, a fever, several collapses, daily nosebleeds, and now more recently, vomiting of blood. Not much of it, but fine, bright red threads of it laced through the bile and acid. Just when I thought I was getting better, I might actually be getting worse. My ear is acting up again, and I am dizzy with fear; queasy from the medical bills I must still somehow pay, but cannot afford. My health is more inconsistent than ever, and I never know how I will be feeling each day I wake up. Will I hurt today? Will I cry from my physical ailment? Or will I endure it? Can I muster enough enough strength to get me through the hours of wake? Will it finally stop? I don't want to take any more medicine, in hopes of it bettering me. I just want to be better.

The photo above was taken last week, in a Bergamot Statior gallery, in front of a painting by Alex Weinstein. Out of all the art I saw, this enormous painting lured me in. I swam towards it. In my dreams, I sometimes dance through it. In my dreams, I'm not being anchored down by my failing health, like it does in my real life. It won't dare sink me. I rise above it. I swim.

mkp.

Snow.

Last week was a bit of a blur. While my friend's long distance relationship completely fell into pieces, I unknowingly allowed all of my insecurities walk all over me. I have always been an over-thinker, but I became so insecure in the span of a day or two, that even when Jarrett would do all he could to make me feel better, I would keep bringing up negative points or potential problems we could possibly encounter somewhere down the road. Eventually, there was a point where we both didn't know what we wanted to do anymore. We were both busy for the week, so we couldn't even talk it through and reassure each other that it would all be alright. But when I finally got to see him on Sunday, those insecurities seemed to have eradicated. I wasn't sad or doubtful anymore, I was just so happy to see him and spend time with him again. How fickle-minded I was for comparing this relationship to those around me. Don't get me wrong, this relationship is fucking hard. It can get pretty fucking unbearable for the both of us. Time and distance are not very good friends of mine at all. But distance only really exists in my head. I am 8,000 miles away from him, but I feel closer to him now than ever before. I feel even more sure about introducing him to my family and having him with me for Christmas. I'm sure it won't be as pretty as his white Christmases in Nova Scotia, but I'm sure it will feel warmer.

My hands and arms are aching from painting and prepping canvases. My head throbbing from studying for my midterm, my eyes beginning to burn. I think I'm going to take a quick shower and go to sleep shortly. I can't wait to close my eyes and see him. Wake up to the morning sun and Jarrett's voice. Hopefully, I dream of the snow.

mkp.

I Dreamt You Were Carried Away.

I’ve always been insecure about many things. Aside from the way I look, I’ve always felt sensitive when it came to admitting that I deserve to be loved and appreciated every now and then. Whenever I got treated unfairly, I accepted it, believing that somehow I deserved whatever it was. I always come in at second best, and I’m rarely ever good enough. Sometimes, I feel like I’m undeserving of the tenderness Jarrett has given me. Sometimes, I feel so naive and young around him, and I wonder what he possibly sees in me that he can’t see in anyone else. Especially in someone who doesn’t live 4,000 miles, and $700 away. Earlier today, one of my close friends revealed some of the trials that have recently surfaced between her and her girlfriend. Since her relationship is also long-distance, I immediately wondered if the same things would happen to me and Jarrett when he came to visit. I wondered what would happen if he stepped off the plane and realized that maybe he was wrong about me. What if I fail to make him happy? What if I don’t meet his expectations? What if I’m actually not what he wants? Sometimes, these thoughts and ideas make me doubtful. And tonight when he saw me so worried about it all, I could tell it hurt him. More than he wanted to admit to. We ended that call with the both of us a little cold. I left to go off and sleep, while he left me an email. The latter part of it read, “Its pretty unbearable, I’m sorry I’m so sad sometimes. I really hope you don’t have doubts about us and what we are doing. I love you”. I feel like I’m asking for so much. This relationship requires so much time, so much patience, honesty and trust, endless fines of money, and every extra ounce of effort we can muster up. It’s draining sometimes. But in all and complete honestly, I have never felt anything like this before. And it’s a beautiful thing, how beautiful he makes me feel. I know happiness, now that I know Jarrett. And I just want him to be happy. Whether it’s with me or without me, I just want what is best for him. If he ever comes to the realization that maybe I am not what it best for him, then I will have to learn to let that go. The left side of my head has grown so much hair in the past two weeks. What was once a field of soft stubble has now become outlined with dark fuzz, completely encasing any memory of my half-bald head. I can’t wait to get rid of it tomorrow. I can’t wait to let it go. The time to shave the half of my head again has never come at a more proper time. There are things that I desperately need to let go of. And there are things I want and need to hold on to and fix.

"And the moon's laying low in the sky, forcing everything metal to shine.

The sidewalk holds diamonds like a jewelry store case. They argue 'walk this way', 'no, walk this way. And Laura's asleep in my bed. As I'm leaving, she wakes up and says,

'I dreamt you were carried away on the crest of a wave.

Baby, don't go away. Come here.'"

mkp.

When It's Time to Leave.

Yesterday, there was a family party for my sister's seventeenth birthday. I had never felt more miserable around my family in my entire life. There was laughter and smiles all around, but I wanted to disappear into thin air. Vanish unnoticed. Honestly, the only reason I go to these gatherings is because one day, I hope to never attend one ever again. I'm sick of home. I love Los Angles and all it has to offer. But I do not want to be in beautiful California if I must stay a yearning twenty-year old free spirit, imprisoned in this house. Chained to this dark dingy room, the only place under this roof that has known me. I am tired of having to keep quiet about Jarrett and my personal life. Of having to censor myself, and lie just so I can go out and see something new. Of having to justify anything I do with reasons as to how it will benefit me. I'm sick of wearing this mask just to please my parents. It's comprised of everything I am not, and I'm afraid that after a while, I'll lose any memory of the person I am. I hate it here, and I need to rid myself of these chains. I need to be set free. How beautiful would it be to leave in the middle of the night and never see those faces again. Run away to the city, or to the country. See things for myself, and by myself for once. But I cannot leave. I don't have the means, nor the heart to just pack my things and go. I can't muster the courage to say goodbye. I'll be stuck here forever.

mkp.

Close to You.

I woke myself up from a coughing fit at around eight in the morning. When my throat finally cleared up, I finally noticed the first signs of fall. There was a soft pitter-patter of rain hitting the driveway. I realized that I had slept with a sweater on, and I no longer needed my ceiling fan whipping cold air onto my naked body as I tried to fall asleep. I no longer craved ice cream, but hot chocolate, and warmth, and cuddles. However, I feel pretty warm as it is. I slept alone last night, but my bed felt warm again. Traced with your presence, even though I've never even laid down with you. I saw you before I fell asleep, I closed my eyes to the thought of you, and woke up to you again. Still, I woke up in my empty bed. But you were here. I swear that we were tangled up together through the night. My heart so near to yours, they started beating at the same pace. I feel close to you, even though we are so many miles apart. I can't wrap my mind around it. I feel so strongly for you, and I care for you deeply. And I know this, without ever having kissed you, or felt you before. I've never even held your hand. I always told myself that I was just fine by myself. That it would be foolish to get involved with anyone, and that love was stupid and a waste of time. Now look at me. I can't even agree with any of those things I once spoke of. I fell for you without even realizing it. And to be honest, I'm completely fine with it.

Two months. Two months, and then my dreams will finally be parallel to my reality. I will get to hold you, and lock my fingers with yours. I will get to feel your skin against mine. Instead of blowing you kisses, I will just pull you in, so that our lips can meet. Nothing will matter--not time, nor the distance. The only thing that will matter to me will be the current, as I lose myself completely in our movements, and find myself in the morning when I wake up to you beside me. Instead of wishing, I'll be there.

Now it's no use going back to bed. I suppose I'll make myself some hot tea. I feel like painting today, while listening to music that reminds me of the crackling leaves, but just softly, so that it doesn't completely block out the sound of the rain. This time around, October will be good to me.

mkp.