Roasted chicken, ginger, daikon, shiitake mushroom soup with lime, cilantro, broccoli sprouts, and rice noodles
i know i was meant to live near the ocean so i could sit on the sandy beach, talk to the waves and walk into the water when my time is done
i think about my mother and what she had to let go to take care of me. i think about the photo of her when she was young, her eyes bright and golden, maybe she passed them to another child in another world. i think about how she didn't grow up, i think about the pain she was inflicted with to prove herself of her womanhood, of the burden she earned when she had children. i think about being in her womb, warm and parasitic, sucking the life force out of her, making her losing all locks of her dark, long hair. i think about her drastic weight loss, i think about her face holes, i think about her sudden shift in mood and satisfaction. i think about how i was the end to my mother, how i brought death to her the moment i was born and months i laid in her womb. i think about her mother calling her every other day, wishing she could see her and embrace her. i think about the nights my mother misses my grandmother, and how i wish she didn't have to be with me instead. i think about my mother and it aches because no matter how hard i try, i can never be gentle with her. i think about how i hate her with so much fury, but never wipe her watering eyes when she wanders. i think about how i love her to the point a part of me breaks and shakes and dies, but i can't show it without shouting and screaming and yelling. i think about how my mother yearns to be hugged and embraced by her own mother, how i wish i could be that for her, how i want to coddle her and kiss her forehead and tell her everything will be alright. i think about how my mother has crossed oceans for me to sleep beside me on lonely nights, how her mother would cross the same oceans to wash her hair, how i can't even seem to reach out to her and hold her close. i think about my mother shampooing my hair, and how warm her hands are, how safe i feel so bare infront of another human being, how the love from the womb comes back.
photographed by leslie zhang for self-portrait kids
i adore the thought of soulmates in every century/world/universe/life/forever but they aren't lovers every time. like in some worlds they are just a dog and a person and that's okay. in another— a cat and a butterfly that landed on its nose, a young person who befriends an older person, a fisherman and a mermaid they catch, a pirate and their squawking parrot, two orcas communicating from miles away, whatever. doesnt matter cause its always you. it will always be you and yes theres reincarnation's random surprises but ill take any form of you, as much of you as possible and expect you in my life always and anyways
i love spring because the whole day feels like summer morning
new year, consistently corrosive me
srsly tho. i need a digital camera
i need a digital camera so i can take the same pictures i take with my phone but through a different grainer perspective that makes me think that the future isn't here yet and i'm still in 2013 and i'm not left behind grieving after who i could've been