my week in haikus.


Instead of writing

a long political rant

here are some haikus


hitting up J-town

groceries on the handle bars

mmm I love natto


mad disappointed

dwelling is a waste of time

standards staying high


rocks between my toes

how the hell did they get there

the sole split in half


we were so engrossed

but others turned off by our

blithe poop discussions


warm communal thing:

talk show, dancing, n quizzes

while munching on pie



Song of the week:

The Dictators – I Got You Babe


Mission: Move / Status: Complete


photo (6)


cleaned, stuffed, and wrapped up

comfy clutter packed away

tired nostalgia


These past couple weeks have been a productive/emotional/physical clusterfuck.  On top of that, I moved for the first time since transplanting to San Francisco in October 2011.

Moving is exhausting as it is, but especially when you’re a pack rat like me who likes to keep books, objects, and scraps for their sentimental, nostalgic value. It means that for every one of those things that I pick up to dust and decide to pack, give or throw away, I think about why I own it and if it’s a piece of my past that I want to carry forward with me. I try to be reasonable about it. There’s only so much space I have. But it’s still emotionally taxing because it feels like one long self-examination.

It’s the letters from my art camp friends. Lecture notes with elaborate doodling. Gifts from ex-lovers. My extensive sticker book collection. Self-made Halloween costumes. Fabrics I’ve bought in various countries. I can’t bear to part with such things no matter how much I don’t use them day-to-day. They’re all reminders of thoughts, moments, and relationships from over the years that were important to me. Seeing them every once in a while and thinking about that time gives me a sense of groundedness.

I think that our own personal narratives about our lives construct who we are. And as someone who has a shitty long term memory, I need these things to remind me of where I came from. Their meaningfulness evolve as I evolve, but they’re useful as bookmarks…to take me back to that time and contemplate why I was the way I was, and because of that, how I’ve become the person that I am.