Plus Ultra!

.

my old journal + old setup ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

books + coffee >>>>

x

x

x

ok some days being visibly homo is the most wonderful thing in the world. an old woman walking her dog stopped to say hello to me and I asked if i could say hi to her dog. she seemed really excited and told me "his name is rupert brooke. i named him after a gay poet from the era of the first world war. he had red hair just like my dogs fur". then she leans in and whispers like she's divulging some great secret and says "i don't usually tell people about the gay part"

I’ve told this one before, but: I was in a long-distance relationship in 2010. One time, after flying back into Toronto, I got a cab to my apartment. The cab driver, who was a recent Pakistani immigrant, asked where I had been travelling.

And I had to think about my safety as a passenger and a woman, but I decided to just tell him: “I was visiting my girlfriend in New York.” And he went quiet, and I was briefly terrified, and then he said, “It’s good here in Canada, for people like us.” AND THEN I FUCKING CRIED OBVIOUSLY.

It’s good to be visibly or openly queer, when you can be. There are so many more of us out there than you ever realize otherwise.

I had to take one of my cats to the vet late one night, the emergency vet, where they offered for us to see her off to boarding (the polite way of saying “do you want to say maybe your last goodbye”) (she’s much better now though) and the receptionist who checked us in was super friendly, smiling gently and calm and reassuring and all that, and it took me half a second to make the connection between their “they/them” pronouns on their scrubs and my “queers bash back” patch on the backpack I’d brought.

how to self teach a new language 

over time the thing i have had more access to - through healing, maybe, or because i got out of that house, or because i was lucky, or because of those who taught me, or all of it - was this sense of a type of love that was all-encompassing and easy. nonromantic; it wasn't anything rose-colored but rather a world seen through honey.

it is this sense that i am in love with birds, and puddles, and how the nose of my dog moves. i am in love with my best friend's hands, and i am in love with your eyes, and i am in love with the little blades of wildflowers turning their heads towards the sun. today my mother told me one of my favorite flowers - lily of the valley - is endangered. i almost wept. i love them, i said.

when i was younger, and i said i am staying for the love, i thought love could only fit into a single birdwing. like a nesting doll; you could only find love somewhere balled up; hidden. you had to pry first, unlock. it would not absolve; only give you a moment's rest. somehow i thought - that was all.

oh but. this love, now. a love of how trains move, and how clouds scud the blue, and how when i asked does anyone have a bandaid i received offers from each person in the room. it is the love of a grey sunday and of mixing paint and of jazz music and seeing my neighbor sigh while he leashes his dog. this sense that it is all lovely and magical, that it is all romantic. the sense that i am in love with breakfast foods and i am in love with book nooks and i am in love with poetry and plants and how you braid your hair and how we shift our weight at the bus stop; and how each of these flood me, effortless and sleepy, like a memory of something i learned as a baby.

i think tomorrow for practice i will teach myself how to love the grey carpet of my ratty apartment; and how the fibers all hold hands with each other and snuggle into bed together, their forms all spooning. i think tonight i will love how my yoga mat leaves little imprints on my knees; a marathon of sticky kisses where the grooves all begged stay with me please. i think i will love the melon rind and i will love the ugly dark bruise.

while we're at it - although we are apart and have never met, i think right now, dear reader. i love you.

Took a trip to the aquarium this weekend 💕

By: Laura & Aaron

when you're younger you make fun of it because it seems boring but one of the best parts of getting older and maturing is recognizing how simply lovely all that cliche shit is. sunsets really are so endlessly satisfying. the hint of lilacs in the breeze really is soft and delicate and sweet. sometimes it feels good just to successfully clean the sink, to find an affordable appliance in the color you've been wanting, to try a new recipe, to finally get through that one television series like how you've been meaning.

it seemed stupid because they tell you - it'll feel quick - but it does feel quick. when i was younger it was like time was molasses. i couldn't get out of there fast enough. all the eras of my life stretched out into taffy. but then you are 29 on a walk with a friend and you both just stop to smell the lily of the valley at your feet. you are both standing there, quiet, enjoying the simple moment of peace.

they say it gets better a lot, which used to have no meaning to me. better for me was undefined and daunting. but here is one way it got better without me trying - a few days ago i was walking my dog and stopped to stand in a sunbeam, turning my cheeks up at the shaft of golden fairylights, the dustmotes in the wood all shivering their little dancing bodies. a stranger stopped and kind of cocked her head and said basking? and i laughed nervously, already moving to get out of her way. instead, she said can i bask with you? and we stood there, full adults, a soundless hum in our chest. when the clouds came back over the sun, we made that awkward small talk - yeah i didn't expect it to be this chilly! and haha spring allergies are comin'.

and you pour yourself a cup of tea and are delighted when you measure the sugar ratio perfectly and you manage to parallel park correctly on the first time (probably because nobody was looking) and yoga really did help your lower back mobility and brown paper packages really do tug on your heartstrings and you love sweaters and furry blankets and watching your little potted plants grow one new and shining leaf and you want to find your younger self and say. yes, i am nostalgic for summers that bent like wheat and were buzzing with low energy and sleep. but darling. adulthood gets better because the time condenses into a prayerbook of your own psalms, these tender beautiful memories. it gets better because things become prettier, gentler, kinder to you - somehow. without you even noticing. you just get to the top of the hill and you realize - oh, this is the thing i've been missing.

"One of the most prevalent obstacles in our ability to heal and self-actualise is when our productivity is tied to our worthiness."

I think the studyblr community especially needs to hear this. You don't have to be productive all the time, you need rest. Recovering from internalised capitalism means unpicking all the messages from family, friends, school and workplace that have reinforced the idea that you are a commodity, and that your worth is based on what you do. Your worth is inherent.

Source: therapywithlee

gentle reminder: you are very capable and I’m excited for your future

slightly less gentle reminder: you do have to work for it

oh to be an early 20th century college student laying homoerotically on the grass with your best friend who you’re secretly in love with, surrounded by books while you lunch and have deep conversations about life…