my week in haikus.

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Instead of writing

a long political rant

here are some haikus

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hitting up J-town

groceries on the handle bars

mmm I love natto

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mad disappointed

dwelling is a waste of time

standards staying high

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rocks between my toes

how the hell did they get there

the sole split in half

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we were so engrossed

but others turned off by our

blithe poop discussions

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warm communal thing:

talk show, dancing, n quizzes

while munching on pie

~

fin

Song of the week:

The Dictators – I Got You Babe

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Mission: Move / Status: Complete

 

photo (6)

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cleaned, stuffed, and wrapped up

comfy clutter packed away

tired nostalgia

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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.