in the aftermath of a collision like that,
all you can notice is the silence of a city that never sleeps

i'm not sure what moved first, your heart or my legs
blaring of your heartbeat, or my breathing, or the car horn, whichever was actually louder (perhaps the loudness was just a product of my perception)
your hands are warm.
your eyes are steady.
"how am i going to drive back after that?"
"with two hands on the steering wheel."

‎"Love... interrupts at every hour the most serious occupations, and sometimes perplexes for a while even the greatest minds. It does not hesitate... to interfere with the negotiations of statesmen and the investigations of the learned. It knows how to slip its love-notes and ringlets even into ministerial portfolios and philosophical manuscripts. It sometimes demands the sacrifice of... health, sometimes of wealth, position and happiness. 

- Schopenhauer
(from Traci)

I've settled revolutions on my heart- won or lost I can't tell, but perhaps that was never the intent

eating avocado makes pretty much the whole day seem better

from addie's blog:
"I do take the work, at times, to some personally deep places, and boldly so. I’ll present the pain, but the cause I’ll leave interpretable."

listening to Bach's unaccompanied Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major: Courante

i love hearing the breath of the cellist, and even if you can't hear the breathing you still know exactly when they breathe

this is one of the two times i've wanted to cry this week. just at how beautiful the breath between notes is.

the other time was in yoga, when c. talked about urgency, about how we have to fight our tendency when living in this city to feel like everything is urgent. i held my breath hoping that no one would see my tears, and he said, "the best yogi is the one who moves the most air" so i let go of the air inside my lungs.

oh, and the third time i had forgotten about was when Florence talked about her roots in Texas, and how right when she steps off the plane "the air in Texas smells like my childhood."


so everything i want to cry about has to do with air

this morning, i kid you not, i was driving to work and i was thinking about all the things i have to do, and thinking about looking at my phone, and i had just called my friend to sing her a happy birthday rap song, and i'm looking up at the sky and the sun is shaving through the clouds, and the underbelly of the clouds is a little dark but with blue and silver trimmings, and birds fly up across the piece of sky that i'm looking at, and the light is dimpled on the outwardly plain street of downtown houston, and i was like goddamn this is exactly what mornings should look like.

songs i heard tonight:

blur, song 2

we found love in a hopeless place

i just died in your arms tonight

we'll burn this bridge when winter comes around

this morning i woke up to angus and julia. 

notes:
- the kindness of strangers
- the thickness of accents
- the rapidity of chilean spanish
- discussions about spanish literature
- discussions about literature
- tango dancing on gravel
- gravel on my toes
- motherf*cking sunshine in a cup
- oreos in pudding, which is also called mud pie
- smart children
- kite flying at midnight

notes:
- walking home, singing aloud
- things i see multiple times: the valet guys, the black cat, the people walking to bars
- things i smell: jasmine