we have to make a habit of being tourists in our relationships. to go out and hang out with our significant others in the living room, a friend or your mom, and just pretend like you’ve met this person for the first time. try and notice their facial muscles, hand gestures, tone of voice, way they laugh, what lights up their eyes and try to experience this for the first time. listen to them speak. truly listen. try to get to know this person beyond what you already know.

just be present. tend and care to this person and

moment. don’t let routine blind you. don’t let routine get

in the way of beauty. don’t mistake living with having a

life. 

when you’re not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives. 

if someone said to me, “supposing you were to die tomorrow, what would you do?”

i probably wouldn’t need any time to reply. if i felt

drowsy, i would sleep. if i was thirsty, I would

drink. if i was writing, I might like what I was

writing and ignore the question. if i was

having lunch, I would add a little mustard

and pepper to the slice of grilled meat. if i was shaving, i might cut my earlobe. if i was kissing my boyfriend, i would devour his  lips as if they were figs. if i was reading, i would skip a few pages. if i was peeling an onion, would shed a few tears. if i was walking, I

would continue walking at a slower pace. if i 

existed, as I do now, then i wouldn’t think

about not existing. if i didn’t exist, then the

question wouldn’t bother me. if i was listening to Mozart, i would already be close to the realms of the angels. if i was asleep, i would carry on sleeping and dream blissfully of gardenias. if i was laughing, i would cut my laughter by half out of respect for the

information. what else could i do, even if i

was braver than an idiot and stronger than

Hercules?

even as a child, looking back i never really lived,

i endured.

i killed a plant once, because i gave it too much water. oh god, i worry that love is violence. 

maybe ive been mistaking feeling less for feeling better.

hey dariya

im sorry. 

barbershop writings 

im cutting my hair now, feeling scared but also pretty much amazed. 

i wonder if plants feel the same way when someone cuts their leaves out, or trees whenever autumn comes in, dawning on the forest helping it become a field. new start i guess, but also an end. what if everything is a cycle, absolutely everything, i think every end is a beginning in a way, even death of a human being. although, i dont think that it has anything to do with afterlife, there is no such thing as afterlife, there is life, and then there’s another one. its not that one is under another, they’re on the same line, the continuum of the path doesn’t downgrade as decades go by, it just is the way it is. 

my hair is being sharpened scarily. 

i hope it looks good, as good as im imagining it to in my head. god, god, god, if u are there, make it look good or i’ll cry. i remember one time i actually started a hysteria i had a complete mental breakdown at the hairdressers after a failed haircut, i looked like a ball, a pea, a circle, a round sphere. it was diabolical honestly. 

what about the people that cut their own hair, what do they feel? i have cut my own bangs quite a lot, but it is nowhere near to what people do to themselves in fromt of the mirror at 2AM, with gigantic scissors in their hands. it’s kind of amazing how our mind works actually, when i think about it. 

there is also a list of mundane things that sort of feel like ancient human rituals: 

• cleaning or wiping bare feet
• breaking off a piece of bread and handling it to someone
• putting the weight of a basket on your hip or head
• eating nuts or berries hunched over very closely to the ground
• seeing something startling just out of your line of sight, and very quickly stepping, or leaping over to a larger object to get a better view
• cupping your hands into running water to wash your face 
• the unanimous protection of a baby, or a child, in a public place where women are present 
• when an elderly woman laughs and grips your forearm tightly
• crossing your legs so a cat can curl up in your lap
• seeing something divinely beautiful and gesturing to the nearest stranger to come and look
• rolling over a log to see the bugs on the underside
• picking up a good stick, like a really nice one, and swishing it around to hear the ultimate “stick noise”
• poking at things and creatures on the shore
• showing off a particularly nice fruit
• turning dirt over and planting seeds
• going out of your way to get close to the edge of any body of water to see if there are fish in it
• thump side of a dog like the bongo drums tudutudutudu
• breaking a stick, or a stick like object (spaghetti, straw hay, etc)
• pulling up a handful of grass and throwing it at someone
• cutting your own hair with a sharp knife 
• eating small candy piece by piece as if i’m starving, and this is my only meal for a week

mmm the haircut looks noice so far. it really does. i look a lot older!