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Napkin Thought #22: As The Ephemeral Snow

December 8, 2017. Today is the day my best friend’s dad passed away.

As I stepped out my front door this morning, bundled in my fleece-lined, fur-hooded coat and trusty black combat boots, a magical sight greeted me: Frosted trees, sugar-dusted rooftops, powdery sidewalks. ‘Twas the first snow in eight years. It was as if I had stepped into Narnia– anything seemed possible, and the day itself possessed an enigmatic quality.

Breathing in the clean air and capturing the vignette through my camera lens, I forgot the usual hustle and bustle of Friday mornings– the thought of tardiness not once crossing my mind and the expediency of daily routine diminished. Today was an exception. Today, there was snow.

The snow, soft when sprinkled and firm when packed, stung my fingers with its cold and warmed my heart with its potential. Snow means winter. Snow means Christmas. Snow means singing. Snow means hot chocolate. Snow means cuddles. Snow means reunion. Snow means surprise. Snow means delight.

However, snow, despite all the joy and beauty it bestows on the world, is not meant to last forever– not in Houston, Texas anyways. Here in the morning and gone by the afternoon, Houston snow must be stored in pixels and preserved in memory. It must not be forgotten because it will be a while until we see it again. It must be experienced in all its fullness and appreciated with unhindered expression before the gently beaming sun makes it glimmer, sparkle, and disappear.

December 8, 2017. The first snow in eight years.

From this year onward, every time I see snowflakes floating down from above, I will remember. I will remember him, and I will treasure all the people I love. I will remember that life is short, precious, and meaningful, and I will grab hold of every moment I spend breathing. I will remember that life is joyous and beautiful, and I will preserve every memory that I make.

As the ephemeral snow, life is full of love, delight, joy, magic, and possibility.  As the ephemeral snow, cold and warmth come hand in hand. As the ephemeral snow, we can praise our God even with silence. As the ephemeral snow, called away by the rising sun, we also will one day return home to our Father above. As the ephemeral snow…

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Napkin Thought #21: Well shit

So apparently, he was a fuck boy. Is.

Apparently, he had just gotten out of a thing with my best friend’s sister. Two days before he moved on to me. Apparently, that was a minor detail that I never needed to know. (Thanks bestie, you the real one.)

Apparently, snuggling on his couch when his parents aren’t home is not something he “doesn’t do with just anyone”. Apparently, his mama also needs to burn that couch now.

Apparently, he “has changed and wants to prove himself trustworthy” to me. And I, like an honest idiot, believed him. Apparently, I am not as smart as I thought I was.

Apparently, I deserve to be the girl who gets it right. Apparently, he doesn’t want to be the one that ruins it.

Apparently, that was all bullshit.

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Napkin Thought #20: 满怀期待

让我再看你一遍

从南到北

像是被五环路蒙住的双眼

请你再讲一遍

关于那天

抱着盒子的姑娘

擦汗的男人

我知道 那些夏天

就像青春一样回不来

代替梦想的也只能是勉为其难

我知道 吹过的牛逼

也会随青春一笑了之

让我困在城市里

纪念你

让我再尝一口

秋天的酒

一直往南方开

不会太久

让我再听一遍

最美的那一句

你回家了

我在等你呢

我知道 那些夏天

就像青春一样回不来

代替梦想的也只能是勉为其难

我知道 吹过的牛逼

也会随青春一笑了之

让我困在城市里

纪念你

我知道 那些夏天

就像你一样回不来

我也不会再对谁满怀期待

我知道 这个世界

每天都有太多遗憾

所以你好

再见


Lyrics by: 宋冬野

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Napkin Thought #19: Cold Nights, Warm Hugs

It’s nice to have a friend you can openly express affection to.

Someone who you feel natural curling up next to, someone who makes excuses to spend time with you, someone who listens, someone who jokes, someone silly, someone deep, someone understanding, someone who smiles, someone who looks into your eyes, someone who watches you when you talk, someone who waits for you to gather your thoughts, someone who guides you where to walk, someone who leads you when you waltz, someone whose arms rest naturally around you, someone who genuinely cares, someone who provides the perfect-height shoulder to lean on, someone who buries their face in your hair, someone who lets hugs last for minutes, someone who acknowledges how good it is, someone smart, someone witty, someone you’d probably let have your first kiss.

With his arms still around me, I look up, the tip of his nose just inches from mine. Our gazes lock, we smile, and the kiss doesn’t happen– but I’m happy.

There’s something so pure and healing about a good, solid hug. Honestly the whole reason for this post is just so that I don’t forget what it felt like– God, tonight was a good night. Thank you, and thank you, and thank you.

 

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Napkin Thought #18: Crying is goot for the soul

I had three mental breakdowns today, but how you doin’?

 

I don’t know what it was exactly, but oh, let’s see, maybe my totally shitty, unproductive week, my shameful lethargy, my stress eating, my screwed college applications, my self-deception, my isolation, my realization that I wasted the past four years of my life, my utter lack of companionship, my knowing exactly how I ought to be facing these issues but being helpless to implement that wisdom, and oh yeah, my last dance recital is in two months, and I’m going to look like a sauntering swine.

Image result for thumbs up meme

 

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Napkin Thought #17: Lightly Salted

So I just figured out what kind of ex I’m gonna be one day, and I apologize in advance to all you unlucky bastards xoxo !!

Possessive, obsessive, semi-bitter and lightly salted. 

To this day I am still trying to figure out how I ended up being the clingy one with the relentless imagination and technical skills to feed my unhealthy stalkerism when I wasn’t even the one who started all this. This needs to stop. I need a new location. Cali schools or New York schools, come throughhhhhh please.

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Napkin Thought #16: Harvey

“In the eye of a hurricane there is quiet.”

In sixteen years my home has never even come close to being touched by floodwaters, but on August 28, 2017 at 1:30 a.m. the castle was breached. Even as we watched the waters inch in, our spirits were high, we were still laughing at the absurdity of the last minute-ness of our preparation, and the reality of losing our home had not yet sunk in.

The supersaturated reservoir our neighborhood was located next to overflowed into our streets, covering my entire world with at least three feet of unabashedly rising water. In the black of night, two boats and a fire truck passed through. We said we were okay.

Sixteen years and no evacuation; we weren’t about to start now.

The next morning, we evacuated.

We phoned 911. Those guys never even showed up.

After about two hours, a group of knights in grimy armor, called by my neighbor, arrived. We waded out of the house with a few backpacks and three days worth of clothes, wearing nothing but T-shirts and shorts. It was cold, it was loud, and we were still cheery– probably just the adrenaline, honestly. The lovely (no seriously, they were very cute haha) knights dropped us off in the middle of a dry street, told us to wait for a truck to come and went back to rescue more stranded souls. Like idiots, we stood there, the four of us and a few other families, as the rain fell a little faster and our shivers came a little quicker. After a false alarm with a circling helicopter, an accidental encounter with a fire ant pile, a ride down Westheimer Parkway on a little motorboat from Dallas, and an unforgettable trip in a highway patrol truck with handsomely uniformed men, we finally arrived at my old elementary school, which was serving as a temporary shelter and pickup spot for safely displaced persons such as I.

Since then, we’ve been staying with some old family friends who live in a much fancier neighborhood with an idyllic nature trail and lake embedded in it, and I’ve pretty gladly accepted the fact that this will be “home” for the next six months.

Despite the constant support from friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers, I can’t help but feel this overwhelming sense of emptiness, loss of direction, and isolation. I don’t even think I can attribute it entirely to the destruction of my home, which is even more confusing. Do not mistake confusion with ungratefulness, God forbid. I am thankful, and I know things could have been much worse, but perhaps it’s just the accumulation of stress, change, and hormones. For one thing, I’m a senior now, which means all my older friends have left me behind, my ensemble of people has reorganized, and my role in the world has slightly altered. College apps are also a real thing, deadlines are a thing, standardized testing is still a thing, studying and learning are still things, and my lack of motivation, lack of a goal, and utter mediocrity loom in front of me as well.

The “why do I even bother?” question is a daily occurrence. The answer? I don’t know.

I honestly just don’t know anymore.

I am alone.

I want a dog.

Yeah. A dog. I need a doggo.

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Napkin Thought #15: Relapse

Goddammit I miss it.

I miss having someone constantly on my mind and knowing I was also on his. I miss the routine “How was your day?” texts and the childish flirting that sometimes made me physically cringe but simultaneously lifted one corner of my mouth into a soft half-smile. I miss the teasing from our friends, the rare times of being alone with him, tucked safely behind the rickety, out of tune piano, watching our hands glide over the ivory keys wishing they could be intertwined instead. I miss the swimmer shoulders, the gym rat arms, the sauntering stride. I miss the screenshots, the stickers, the songs, the awkwardness, the timidity, the compatible incompatibility. I miss having a guarantee. I miss being wanted.

I miss it. And therein lies the problem. I tell myself I miss the experience, the chapter of a story I can’t seem to go back and re-read. But when I really think about it, I can’t decide if I miss it… or if I miss him.

(Written from on top of my bed, with his goddam hoodie as a blanket… This is one soft hoodie, wonder if he wants it back… LOL TOO BAD this thing is comfy af ok bye)

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Napkin Thought #14: [Don’t] Look Back

Everything is always clearer in retrospect. Simpler, easier, more 理所当然. Although they say you should leave the past in the past and look forward to bigger, better, brighter things, I believe that in searching the past is where we will discover our true identities. When we look back, we are able to classify our feelings, label our emotions, and examine the reasons behind our impulsive actions. With the eyes of a quasi-impartial observer, we are enabled to critique, analyze, and organize our experiences the way a historian would with individually cohesive but completely independent primary sources. We have time on our side and distance to keep us calm. With these tools, we slowly begin to untangle the Pollockian chaos that is our life, and start to see beauty in the mess and rhythm in the disorder.

Retrospection is good. Reflection is good. Revelation is good. Regression, however, is not. I am an advocate of turning the head and twisting the torso, but the feet should always be pointed forward.

We look backward, but we move forward.

The past is just a museum: we collect the relics, put them on display, walk through the exhibit, appreciate, glean what we can, and eventually, we must leave. The personal understanding we find in the past should propel us toward the future–the imaginary. It should fuel us for improvement and give us the momentum we need to reach farther and run faster. So look back, and see how far you’ve come. Dream forward, and see where you want to go. Live now, and live boldly.