Monthly Archives: January 2015



Sometimes I stare out at the grey sky and feel like it’s enveloping me in a chilly embrace. The fog licks up at my cheeks and stings them with its damp coolness. I am all worn down like the threads in your favourite sweater- unraveling. I wear my ruby red lipstick and you kiss, pull, and bite at them until they’re pale and peeling. I look at myself like a ghost in the mirror, fading, fading fast. I smudge it on and there I am again, a rose in the mist.

I wonder about you; who are you when I’m not there? Do you wonder about me too? Do you contemplate the way I bite at my lips and the moments I dart my eyes away from yours? Or am I merely a passing fascination- just there when I’m there and gone when I’m not. Fading, fading, fading.

Memory is a funny thing- it was never really how we remember it. We see things how we want to see them and remember them in the sense we want them to be remembered. How will I be remembered? Will you remember me at all?



Sitting on the crowded bus surrounded by people she stares out the window at the passing skyline– bright blue and swept with light clouds, like dust across a cement floor. She looks out through the glass and smiles at the beauty that surrounds her, instead of looking in at her self and frowning. She can’t find the beauty there.

So instead she looks out windows at the passing things and reflects on her own mortality; her life too is passing her by. It feels like it was only yesterday, after all, that she dreamed of living in this city; yet, here she is, riding the bus over the bridge and watching the city and the sea grow smaller in the distance. It’s funny how life works– the grass is always greener, she decides.

She remembers then a quote she read, she’s not sure where, about how if you tend your own grass and nurture it, it too will be green. So she decides to work hard at what she has and allow it to grow. That night she tosses and turns, sleep coming only intermittently and riddled with confusing dreams that startle her awake. She dreams of a centipede monster, and the bigger one to come. She wakes, feeling a sense of unease.

“Centipedes are fearsome creatures. In dreams they represent fears and worries that act as obstacles between you and your goals.”

She sighs, rolls out of bed and starts another day. Today she will look out the windows of her city bus and dream not of the monsters she sees at night, but of the sea and what has brought her to where she is.


Picking the right person to be in a relationship with isn’t easy. I always think I know what I want and then am surprised by the people I end up with. I was seeing one particular boy who looked like a greek god and treated me like a goddess. I call him a boy because that’s what he ended up being– he couldn’t commit to anything more than his tequila and workout routine.

He opened my eyes though to the idea that I deserve better than what I’ve been getting. At first I felt like that meant that I needed someone really attractive, but I’m beginning to realize what really matters. Ultimately it’s all about how the person makes us feel about ourselves and the world around us. Do they make things better or worse?

I wholeheartedly believe that the right person will make your entire life feel rose colored and that with them you’ll feel like the person you want to be. It should be someone who makes you laugh and makes you notice the great things about yourself. No matter how lonely I feel, and believe me– the loneliness is crushing, I am willing to wait for the person who respects me and cherishes me.


It’s funny how far away I feel from my former self but how things still feel the same. This time last year my life was completely different; I was completely different. And I’m not even just talking about 30 pounds heavier and about 15 inches more hair.

Now here I am, this whole different being but I am going to the same school, listening to the same music, eating the same food, hurting myself in the same old ways.

Yeah, things are different, but it’s really just more of the same. Over and over again. Same story, different book.

About Me.

The question: “tell me about yourself” has always felt rather daunting to me. I don’t know how to answer the question honestly while also making myself sound interesting. So here are some things about me that I might not say right away, but I think are just as important as the “I was born here” and “I want to do this” of the conversation.

1. I love the sound of rain. It’s raining right now and the sound tapping against my window leaves my stomach aflutter and gives me a feeling of nostalgia- I can’t remember all the other times I’ve listened to the rain, but none the less there is a feeling of familiarity and comfort.

2.  I never wanted to dye my hair; I got talked into it by a friend and now I miss my natural colour. So the answer is no, this is not my natural colour, and no I am not happy about it.

3. I would probably rather be reading/watching Netflix (or both) than doing anything else.

4. I’m a stupidly huge romantic; I want to get married and it to be a beautiful celebration of love and I want to create a wonderful little family and be happy forever. Oh… I’m not supposed to mention that on a first date? Huh.

5. The approval of my family means a lot more to me than I care to admit.

6. The approval of people in general means a lot more to me than I care to admit.

7. I refuse to accept the idea that money can’t buy happiness, because money can buy food and as far as I’m concerned food is happiness.

8. I’m instantly more attracted to someone who has a dog. Or even a cat sometimes. But mostly dogs.

9. I struggle with anxiety.

10. I hate picky eaters. Can’t stand them.

Anything else you’d like to know about me?