I am in love with a monster. A thing so hated to the bone simply for its mystery. Monsters are beings one fears for its own ugliness, yet I love a thing so beautiful and rare it must be hideous to anyone else but me. It wages wars and beats its chest and mutters just to hear its echo, and I can feel an anger deep within him that sends shudders down my spine, as if my brain and my heart were two disconnected entities. The tremor of fear and the tremor of love are not so different, it seems.
When we feel unsafe with someone and still stay with him, we damage our ability to discern trustworthiness in those we will meet in the future.
There was always something that bothered him about waiting for the bus. It wasn’t impatience. Things took time and stressing or mumbling darkly about it never worked to make it happen quicker, in his opinion.
Nor was it any lofty sense of self importance as if he was too good to ride public transportation. Public transport was a godsend in urban development. If anything it saved his budget from shelling out cash for insurance and five dollar gas, prevented the hassle of digging through pockets for quarters because weathered gray meters refused to take pennies as he grumbled about the lack of parking spaces. That was why he owned a bike. Light weight, a solid thin frame built for squeezing between parked cars and ongoing traffic, hitching easily over curbs and being carried up three flights of stairs.
No, what bothered him was the staring.
The idea that he had become, the moment he hit the brakes and climbed of his bike to wait, an exhibit to be gawked at. Only for brief minutes were he and other riders in sight, dismissed easily but looked at nevertheless. The linger gazes when traffic was backed up, prolonging the wait had his skin itching. Lined up on the sidewalk, with a backdrop of outlet malls, fast food joints, and parking lots littered with stray carts, he felt like he was being stared at by the unknown, behind glass only they could see through.
The king lifted a hand to her cheek and kissed her. It was not a kiss between strangers, not even a kiss between a bride and groom. It was a kiss between a man and his wife, and when it was over, the king closed his eyes and rested his forehead in the hollow of the queen’s shoulder, like a man seeking respite, like a man reaching home at the end of the day.
There were always in me, two women at least. One woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.
Man only likes to count his troubles, but he does not count his joys.
Instead of insane, say unreal.
Instead of crazy, say unbelievable.
Instead of calling someone a psycho, call them an asshole.
Instead of stupid, say awful.
Instead of dumb, say bad.
Taking ableist language out of your vocabulary is simple and will help widen your vocabulary.
"I don’t know much about him. My aunt tells me that he was smart and funny, and that I’m a lot like him because I’m stubborn. I know that I have his nose. But other than that, he’s just the man who walked out on me and my mother. He’d call every few months when I was really young, but eventually that stopped. I can’t convince myself that he’s mean, because then I’ll be angry forever. I’m sure plenty of people who know him think that he’s a really nice guy."
"Would you like to know him?"
"I can’t say that I want to know him really, but I would like to know about him. I’d like to see how he behaves, how he walks, if he seems different than the other people I see on the street. I’m interested in his story just like I’m interested in everyone else’s story. Only a little more so, because I’m a part of his story."
(Mexico City, Mexico)
Nothing will ruin your 20’s more than thinking you should have your life together already.
Just remember, even your worst days only have twenty-four hours
Comparing yourself to others is an act of violence against your authentic self.
Well, the simple definition is ‘Don’t treat me like shit because I’m a woman.’