i want to know who your first best friend was. did you guys become friends on the playground at school? did your parents get along? what was your favorite game to play at recess? who was the first girl you remember ever having a crush on? my first crush was a boy named christopher (we never called him chris), whose parents dressed in a dapper dress shirt and pants every day. he gave me yellow flowers and for a five year old, i may as well have been married. the next day though i found out he gave daisies to my best friend. i cried walking home from school that day. 

what are your parents like? what do you guys talk about at the dinner table every night? they must be so proud of you. and your siblings - how are you guys alike? how are you different? what inspires you about each of them? do they get under your skin ever? it feels like my sister and i clash daily when we’re living under the same roof, but we usually get by. is that what it’s like for you guys too? 

what’s your favorite movie? is there a movie that’s ever made you cry? pre-pandemic, what are the things you’d do that brought you joy? what are your friends like? what do you guys talk about? i mean, i know you’re playing video games with them every other day, but when it comes to the real shit, who do you turn to for advice? 

sometimes i feel overwhelmed by my curiosity and eagerness to know you. most of the time, i feel a little sad that it feels like that isn’t reciprocated. you don’t ask me questions. you don’t even spend time with me on the phone to ask. when you say you miss me, i fight the urge to ask who you could miss. who do you know? 

one thing i like about ‘i miss you’ in korean is that it actually quite literally translates to, ‘i want to see you’ 

we've seen firsthand the primal instincts people have, exercising survival of the fittest without regard of the neighbors next to them. this music is donald's best. i wonder what the man illustrated in the middle, by the edge of panel 2, is praying about. i think he's praying. he appears to be holding his hands close together. he's focused. he's looking down. i'd like to think i'm that man, but i haven't prayed in a long time. what happens if i run out of time to? i think about death more as a buzzer - like the final sound you hear before the end of a basketball game. the clock just runs out and then that's it. you don't get to play anymore. no more opportunities to score, no more teamwork. you walk off the court and it's just you. what if i run out of time to pray?

2019 lessons

life is about taste

i’m 25 today. these are the years i used to dream about.

also i was into some wack ass outfits when i had this tumblr, wtf lemme scrub this basic shit 

i’ve been wandering around wondering if maybe i should start praying again.  the sun is too bright,  my skin is too young, my reality is flowing too well for no one up there to be looking out for me.

i’m basquiat and diaz,  SAMO IS DEAD.  death to the same old mindset, the same old routine, the same old hustle, the same old prayer.

amen...

words were never necessarily easy to find, but i remember it being easier than this. you used to be the scapegoat, and it’s easy to write about a villain. three years and some odd months later, i don’t have anyone to blame anymore. 

it’s funny -- even when i read some of my happy thoughts about us, it just reads as a girl who’s trying to convince herself over and over again of her happiness. like, i am happy, i am happy, i am happy. 

but i still went to bed every night a little sadder, a little more disappointed than the night before. 

being in los angeles is exactly what i made it out to be. covered in all of its smog and pollution is a city that is home to over four million people... and then me. and yeah, i’m doing okay. and yes, i am lucky and beyond grateful. 

but i’m still going to bed every night a little sadder and a little more disappointed than the night before.

i’ve never fallen out of love before -- i’ve never been in love, period -- but i imagine that if i had, it would feel a lot like the way ‘blonde’ sounds.