"how did it start?" she asks; "how will it end?" i want to know.

it didn't just start. it happened, and it continues to happen. something that has a start logically must have an end. there is no end here. i bet i could end and this would go on.

one of my earliest memories is from dance class. my sister is not born yet so i am less than five years old. we are practicing a move - something called window shutters, i believe. two girls stand side by side, then step in opposite directions, thus revealing a third girl who was standing behind them the whole time, shielded from the view of the audience.

i was not sufficiently small enough to be the third girl by any stretch of the imagination. i remember knowing i could never even be considered by the instructor to be girl #3. i remember being worried that i could play the part of both girls #1 and #2. how mortifying would that have been? to be both shutters. thankfully i was spared this imagined embarrassment. so many mirrors. so many little girls. but i was never a "little" girl.

this was my last dance class. the next few days i complained of a bellyache and imitated my mother's morning-sickness. the following saturday i announced i would not being going to dance class.

i feigned stage fright the night of the recital. i told my parents i was not a dancer, and they assumed i'd much rather just play softball and soccer and plus, with a new baby sister, they had other things on their mind, other things to spend their money on besides wasted dance lessons for child elephants better suited for catcher or goalie.

that was my last dance class. i hate mirrors.


who cares how it starts, all i care about is how it ends.

how's this for a personal statement?

"i want to become a doctor because, despite not being able to take care of myself, i'm spectacular at saving the lives of others."

i miss you now. i miss you all the time.

it feels so weird to be missing you. or no, not "weird." maybe "wrong" is the right word. yes, "wrong" - for a million reasons. you are there and i am here. apart like always, but now miles separate us in addition to a multitude of similarly intangible distances.

i have dreams where you make a guest appearance and then i am upset with my subconscious for teasing me with surreality and manifestations of wants i wasn't even aware of (like meeting your sisters, apparently). i wake up mixed up.

you talk little and i savor each word on my tongue, drips of water in the sahara. but is it only a oasis? yes. silly, silly me.

it is my imagination getting the better of me. it is my mind playing tricks on me. it is my sense leaving me. (and i am waving goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.)

it is anything but wrong because it is not even real.

not for the faint of heart

things that are hazardous to my health:

coldplay + alcohol

those who are dead
are not dead
they're just living in my head
and since i fell for that spell
i am living there as well

i have found what you are like (e e cummings)

        i have found what you are like
       the rain,

               (Who feathers frightened fields
       with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

       easily the pale club of the wind
       and swirled justly souls of flower strike

       the air in utterable coolness

       deeds of green thrilling light
                                     with thinned

       newfragile yellows

                         lurch and.press

       -in the woods
                    which
                         stutter
                                and

                                   sing

       And the coolness of your smile is
       stirringofbirds between my arms;but
       i should rather than anything
       have(almost when hugeness will shut
       quietly)almost,
                      your kiss