confession: every city in europe that is not paris makes me long for paris. i arrive in paris on saturday. my best friend will meet me there, squeeze me for hours, do the hokey pokey with me, and kiss me at midnight.
confession: madrid has been weakly redeemed, but i’m neither impressed nor inspired to return again in the future.
confession: i prefer eating dinner purchased from a street vendor while leaning against an alley wall to dining by candlelight on gourmet fare in a five star restaurant.
confession: i’m a cat person who smiles widely at dogs.
confession: i arrogantly mistake myself as a snake charmer while the snake hypnotizes me.
confession: sometimes i allow myself to free-fall into the abyss to see if it is, in fact, bottomless. i haven’t reached the bottom yet.
confession: i miss my friends. i spent too much of 2011 withdrawn in my darkness and too little time shadow dancing beneath starlight with my friends.
confession: in 2011 i lost relationships i thought were impossible to lose. i lost sureness about myself, qualities i’d never doubted, ways of being that i believed were fundamental for me. the losses have dismantled my life as i knew it. my body trembles in response to this year’s tremors. i’m doing my best to keep my heart soft, open, and vulnerable while lost, hurting, and confused.
confession: i’m getting better at goodbyes, but my hellos are becoming quieter, more reticent, halting in my throat, swallowed in a wad of spit.