why I’ve been posting sporadically

I’ve been posting sporadically because I’ve been enjoying a month off before law school starts. I traveled to D.C. to see Andrea, to NYC to visit my cousins and Gaby, and to Tampa with Ceddy. I wrote the first of many rough drafts of a novel I’d like to publish.

TheĀ first (official) day of class is on Monday. After (almost) a week of orientation, digging into assignments, and meeting new people, I’m going to be as prepared as I can be. I’m simultaneously anxious & excited for this new adventure.

I won’t get to post as often as I have been for the past year, but I’m going to try to post during the weekends. Thank you for reading (or looking, if you’re browsing at my photos)!

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a few of my favorite things

blasting my song
while dancing home
after work on a Friday.
sinking into an ice bath
when the a/c’s broken on
a scorching summer afternoon.
cocooned together,
slowly drifting to sleep
in your arms every night.

better than a fairy tale

no prince gallops into your life
on a noble steed & whisks you away
to a faraway, problem-free land.
instead, you fall in love with
a man who was your friend first,
became your sounding board
& with whom you will continue to
go on adventures & travel the world —
which is better than a fairy tale.

the beauty in differentiation

at age ten,
a weasel-faced blonde boy calls you fat
because you consistently get
better grades than him
& insists a brown girl doesn’t belong
at a school with (superior) white kids.
you quip that you live in
a nicer neighborhood than his,
but the real reason you’re better than him
is that he’ll always be a covetous jerk.

at age twelve,
a freckled ginger boy scrubs your arms
with a pool brush after swim practice
& claims that he thought the white splotches
(of sunburn) on your dark skin was dirt.
you shove him into the pool
& watch him sputter,
coughing water in surprise.
your coach’s punishment is that
you have to swim extra (victory) laps.

at age fourteen,
a thin brunette girl snidely snickers,
“you’re not pretty. you’re cute like hello kitty.”
you weren’t allowed to wear makeup
or dress like her eighteen-year-old sister.
after braces straighten your crooked teeth
& your only growth spurt sheds baby fat,
you decline her offer to be friends —
even then, you’d rather be alone than have
catty friends you didn’t like (& vice-versa).

at age sixteen,
(until almost a decade following)
a parade of basic white guys marvel
over the fact that you’re the first Asian girl
they’ve admired who defies stereotypes —
you’ve inherited your mother’s feistiness
& your father’s no bullshit attitude.
though your temperament mellows over the years,
you loudly continue to refuse to be fetishized
& mock white guys who should check their privilege.

at age twenty-three,
your handsome ivorian friend becomes more.
you’ll never look like models in magazines,
but you’ve learned to appreciate that
your black hair is unruly
& your skin’s base tone is deep tan.
the ways that you look different
no longer (solely) define you.
he knows all of you & loves you
because of (not in spite of) it.

a thousand ninety-five days

a thousand ninety-five days
spent with you —
(feels longer & shorter
than that simultaneously)
uncontrollable laughter,
hands held during long drives,
hugs after horrible days,
talks until dusk,
kisses goodnight,
& breakfast at sunrise.
passion hasn’t cooled —
instead, it’s fueled by
our unshakable bond
& the way we push each other
to be our best selves.
no matter what
life throws our way,
we’ll always face it
together.