MANIFESTO 2019

If I'm given the opportunity to change my life, what will I change? How will things finally be different so I will happy and stop feeling such terrible dread?

So many books talk about living with a different kind of mindset. To think positively, to live positively. Everything we've ever wanted is a thought away. Everything I've ever wanted, I just have to believe in. It's going to happen as long as I believe. The most powerful and terrifying thing to realize is that I have the power and ability to get, to reach everything I've ever wanted. I just have to believe. I have to have the courage to chase after it. I can't let fear consume my life. Fear can't live my life for me. I can't make fear-based decisions. When has something life-changing started with a belief in failure? Who would chase success if they believed that they were destined to fail? Success doesn't happen that way.

It's all in. Let this be the year of putting all the cards on the table. Let this be the year where it is all or nothing. Be dramatic. Be raw. Be honest. Hold no prisoners. Stop living as if your dreams won't be accomplished. Stop living as if the greatest parts of you will never be discovered. Don't live believing that what you have is all you deserve; the best you can hope for. Don't live never asking for more. What kind of life is it to accept complacency? What kind of life is it to accept anything less than extraordinary? That's not you. That's not your life. Life has never been ordinary. It will never be ordinary, but it can be extraordinary.

In the grand scheme of life - in my now 25 years, in my lifetime, in the years that humankind have walked this earth, the years existence has breathed this air, in the years of the universe... In all of this, why can't I take a year to be intentional with my efforts and my time? Don't I deserve to treat my being and my time with a bit of respect? Shouldn't I take the time to learn this for myself? It will be good to take the time, make the effort.

If I make a promise to myself, can it be worth something? Can I make it so that my time and presence is worth something?

I want to make this year different. I want to make myself different. I want to force it to be different. I will make thing different. It's going to happen. I refuse for it to be otherwise. If I could take everything I didn't enjoy about this previous year and force it out of my life, how much better would things have been? How much happier, how much less stressful? If I pack all the anxiety and doubts about where I am and where I am going, and push them away, how much lighter will I feel? How much freer will I be? How much more good could I fit into my life if only I got rid of this negativity? What if I could get rid of the voices that doubted my competency?

Are we our own greatest enemies? We are certainly our own biggest and meanest critics. I'm not sure there's someone else in the world who could say all the same mean things about myself as me. Who will spend all that time on someone else with little to no benefit to themselves? I don't think anyone will. It does so little. Yet here I am with all these mean things ready. What if I treated myself as if I loved myself? What if I did all the loving things even if I didn't love myself? How differently will things be? How much could things improve? Wouldn't I just like to see what it could look like? Why not? There's nothing I could lose if I spoke to myself kindly, lovingly.

I think - I'm sure I read somewhere that we're actually really afraid of letting ourselves be happy. If we've grown accustomed to our narrative of being sad and unfortunate, we really struggle to let it go and choose to be happy instead. For so long, our identity was one of dissatisfaction, and even dissatisfaction carries with it, comfort, if you've stayed there for a while. I've grown so accustomed to my narrative. My narrative that is sick, sad, unlucky, lonely, not good enough, ugly. Even though these thoughts are unkind and it doesn't feel good to think this way, it is easier than to question, to challenge, to make some noise and stop apologizing for my existence. I don't want that anymore.

I want to change my life to one where I celebrate my life and existence. I want a life where I celebrate myself above all else.

Resolutions & Predictions

This is something I do annually with my best friend. (The list from last year can be found here.) My best friend and I grab some pizza and talk through the previous year. We talk about what we've accomplished, if it met what we hoped and expected, what the big things, whether they were good or bad or something that happened. We list out our resolutions and predictions for the coming year. It's therapeutic. It's a reminder. It's something of a guideline. It's how we can see potential in the next year. And well, it's tradition.

Here is mine for 2019.

PREDICTIONS

1. You'll get more tattoos.
2. You'll recommit to yoga and movement.
3. You'll see more of the world. 
4. You'll learn what it means to take better care of your body.
5. You'll find a job worth staying at for a while.
6. You'll laugh more and worry less.
7. You'll find art again.
8. You'll stay single. You'll fall in love with yourself.
9. Your health will deteriorate. It'll be OK though.

RESOLUTIONS

1. Stop living in fear. Stop living in this mindset of lack, of absence. Start living with the mindset of plenty, of abundance and bounty.
2. Live for yourself for once. Your existence shouldn't be an apology. Your life wasn't meant for chasing others. Please internalize your value. Let it glow.
3. Figure out your relationship to your lupus. Whether that is through writing or art or therapy. Please stop hating yourself.
4. Move towards a waste-free lifestyle - as much as you can.
5. Come home to art.
6. Travel. Open your eyes again. Open your heart to the world.
7. Reassess your relationship to alcohol and weed. Learn what it means to live with yourself without apologizing, without so much fear and anger.
8. Save $15,000. Have a total savings of $30,000 by the end of the year.
9. Pay back the kindness you've been given. Save a bit of money each month to do something nice for the people in your life; an experience to share. 

GOALS

A new edition this year. Goals are different from resolutions because whereas resolutions are overall life habits and thought patterns that can be changed, I think of goals as tangible things, events and decisions I can and will apply to my real life. 

1. Try the complete Whole30.
2. Make it through two 30-day challenges.
3. Make reading before bed a thing.
4. Produce at least one piece of art a month.
5. Find a community or a circle or event outside of what you know now. Meet new people.
6. Get your license.
7. Plan two big trips and some small trips.

My Body

I want to write about my body. Tonight, I'm at a storytelling event. It is so intimate, so personal, so painful and so healing. It is sold out. We are standing in a dark room of mostly strangers listening to brave souls talk, tremble through some of the most painful moments and experiences in their lives. I don't cry but one thing that was said stays with me. She talks about her body as this other entity. Something that existed outside of her. Her body now invites her back. Says that she loves her, tells her to come home, to come inside. And so, I wonder if I did not cry at the event standing in the crowd, I wonder if I will cry now as I am writing this.

I hate my body.

That is the truth.

My body is resilient and strong. It endures for more than I think it can. Despite all its broken pieces, it continues to endure. To wake up each day and move with somewhat grace through the day's motions. This body is soft and smooth. It is delicate, beautifully so. It stands so proudly despite its smallness. My legs are so powerful with all the steps I take with my worn soles and the shoes I've worn away. My body is an object of male appreciation - all the things they say they want to do to this body, how they wish to fold me and shape me, all the holes they want to fill, all the things they want to snarl to my face. My body is small, appropriate and in line with what this society wants all girl bodies to be. Small and in need of protection. This body carries me through each day, from point A o B, no matter how tired I am. No matter how much I don't want to exist on any given day. This body is powerful and enduring and even, beautiful.

I hate this body.

I don't know if there was ever a moment in my life, in nearly 25 years that I loved this body of mine. A moment where I didn't resent this body's limitations, its malfunctions, its delicacies from the organs that fail to work and look as they should, to the bad blood that courses through my veins, to the fingers and hands I now see as damaged, to the legs that remind me of old people - why do my legs have age spots resembling an 80-year old woman? How can this body be me? The way my skin on my face is raised and inflamed, the way my eyes are oo small, my nose too flat, my voice too low, my body not thin enough. There is so much to hate, so much to insult and pick apart. How can someone be so imperfect? How can speech be so mean?

I am not stupid. I know how society teaches us, particularly young girls, to speak so cruelly about our bodies. How many industries and the number of jobs that must rely on the cruel way we speak about our bodies. How many jobs it is to find new and interesting ways to say mean things about our bodies, this body. I am aware that this is a social construct. I am aware these lies are invented. These lies have never been my truth, nor will they ever become my truth. I am aware of the benefits and the sheer necessity to be naked. To face my nakedness and my vulnerability. I know. I hate my body anyways.

It is entirely isolating. Some days, I want to shout - scream from the hills - "I HAVE LUPUS." I have this life-altering illness that shapes every decision in my life. I can't move abroad because if I do, I don't know what I will do about health coverage and my frequent doctor' appointments. I can't go deeper in a pose or I can't run faster because that means I won't have enough energy for the rest of the day. I don't know how to tell potential partners about my lupus because I'm not sure they would want to deal with it. After all, I wouldn't want to deal with it. I'm so scared about getting sick. How do you explain the physical pain of a common cold to normal people? People who have often never experienced great physical pain so early in their lives. If I shout my truth at them, how can they possibly understand? And yet, I want to shout. I want sympathy. I want a second chance. I want to be treated delicately. Granted too much undeserving kindness. I want it all. I do not have it all. I do not shout I have lupus. I have kept it inside for so long despite the resh living on the outside, on my skin always. Despite the questions, the looks, the bullying.

I need to be more open about my body; with my body. I need to be more vulnerable. I need to trust my body. For fuck's sake, I need to learn to love my body. I need to learn to accept all its struggles, my struggles. Acknowledge that some of these struggles will stay with me all my life. They may never disappear and likely, they will worsen. I need to love her anyways. I don't really know how. I spent so long hating her.

I'm hoping to learn. I'm hoping to improve. I'm hoping to love.

May 30th, 2017

August 28, 2016

September 28, 2015

Did You Know?

The following is another attempt at some point over the years to explain the frustration, intense anger and sadness I've felt about my body. It's repetitive. All of it is, and perhaps, it is exceptionally so - for someone who doesn't live this existence. I admit though. It is repetitive, but when it is not repetitive, it is often catastrophic. 

• Did You know that World Lupus Day is May 10th? 
• Did You Know that lupus is a chronic autoimmune illness? 
• Did You Know that lupus is an invisible illness? 
• Did You Know that I have lupus (SLE - systemic lupus erythematosus)?
• Did You Know that's why I won't go near you if you have a cold? 
• Did You Know that a guy once used this as a reason to dump me? 
• Did You Know that in second year (end of 2012/beginning of 2013), I experienced one of my worst and most difficult times with lupus? 
• Did You Know that even though my leg was so swollen and I couldn't walk, I cabbed to and from classes, and to and from exams during the end of October to December 2012?
• Did You Know that I finished second year on time despite how terrible, exhausted and weak I felt? 
• Did You Know that it took well over half a year to recover fully?
• Did You Know how much weight I lost? How skinny I looked? 
• Did You Know that I dropped to the weight I was when I was maybe 13? 
• Did You Know how absolutely sick I looked? 
• Did You Know the amount of time I spent in the ER, at doctor appointments, in bed because of how bad it was? 
• Did You Know at the age of 18/19, I had three blood clots and a pulmonary embolism on top of pneumonia?
• Did You Know how absolutely painful it was? 
• Did You Know I sat awake all night because it was painful to breathe, much less lay down and try to sleep?
• Did You Know that these are all complications of lupus? 
• Did You Know I have had this diagnosis since I was a kid?
• Did You Know that's why I have a rash on my face and my hands look the way they do? 
• Did You Know how rarely I tell anyone about this or having lupus, or how lupus affects my life?
• Did You Know the number of drugs I'm on to keep my lupus in check?
• Did You Know that even though it is free to see a doctor in Canada, it is not free to pick up your meds? 
• Did You Know that one of the drugs that could help manage my lupus and drastically make my life better cost nearly $2000 per month? 
• Did You Know that $2000 per month is not a reasonable or possible expense? 
• Did You Know how tiring it can get? The physical drain, the emotional drain? Feeling like it's unfair to be so young, and sick? Feeling like your life is out of your control?
• Did You Know how strange it is to be so young but so vulnerable to the state of your health? To have your capability capped off? To feel so limited compared to your peers? 
• Did You Know how difficult it is to know and feel your body giving up on you? Collapsing on you? 
• Did You Know that my lupus is still so much easier to manage than many other cases of lupus? Many other invisible illnesses?
• Did You Know that I have always tried very, very hard not to let this diagnosis or this illness get in the way of living? 
• Did You Know that I have an incredible support system? People I love who are helpful, understanding and encouraging when life becomes more than I can bear? 

Lupus is something I deal with on a daily basis. I am reminded and confronted when I put on my makeup in the morning. I am reminded and confronted the three separate times a day I take my pills. I am reminded and confronted when I feel my hands tingling. I am reminded and confronted when strangers stare too long. 

But I am also reminded and comforted by the number of people in my life who are so, so supportive. I am reminded and comforted by how lucky and blessed I am to live the way I do, to have the resources and mobility I do. I have the resources to control the pace of my life. I am able to live as comfortably as possible. I can manage my lupus and I have access to resources when things get out of control. I have friends and family who understand that things can get tough. When I say I'm too tired to do something, or cannot do something, they understand. This is lucky. I try not to take it for granted. I try not to take any of this for granted. I am very lucky. I try to remind myself of this as often as I can - above or along the frustration, anger and sadness I also feel. 

Did You Know I have lupus? Did You Know I live an incredibly privileged life?

A few pictures from that second year when my lupus got the worst it did.  

April Moments

In the past year or two, I've noticed that I take fewer photos. Maybe it's that a lot of people in my life now don't know my affinity for still images. Maybe it's that I haven't felt much inspiration. I decided to gather some of the few photos I took on my phone during April - my last month of college.

Pictured above: Katy, Ellen, Sheila, and myself.

Titled "Stolen Moments of Peace"

This is a photo from April 7, 2016. I'm not entirely sure if it has already been featured on this blog. I can tell you that the similarities between this photo two years ago and now are frighteningly similar. I still eat almond butter and banana on toast. I still have that MacBook Pro. I'm typing on it right now. I still use that NYX brush with another bottle of that NARS foundation. I still have that plastic tumbler from Starbucks and it's still what I use to drink water. I still use that coffee mug. We still have that plate.

It is alarming to me because I am frightened. I finished school last Friday. I'm looking for an internship right now. I've had two phone interviews and two in-person interviews. I walk away from every single one not knowing how I did. I tell the boy I am seeing that I do not think I make great first impressions. I'm not that charming. I think I am mostly shy and awkward around new people - but not in a cute Zooey Deschanel way. Just an awkward maybe-Aubrey Plaza way.

I'm worried that after a year of school, I am still not going to find a job. I am tired and so eager for a change of pace. I am ready for a change in my life. I want to try new things. I want new challenges. I have felt very stagnant the past three years since I finished my undergraduate degree. I'm concerned that I never feel confident after my interviews. I think I'm a hard worker and I become a very caring, sweet, considerate and friendly person. I'm worried that isn't capable of being shown in the little time interviews offer.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I am hoping for the best. I know I have people who believe in me. I know I have good work. It's just hard to convince myself not to be so scared. I emailed my professor after the interview a little freaked out. She replied, "Hang in there" and "If it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be (for now)."

What will be, will be. 

(They are some differences. I no longer use that makeup bag. I don't use that Too Faced powder anymore. I killed that succulent. I don't know what happened to that plush. The snowglobe is put away somewhere. Same with the notepad. I have a different MetroPass.)

Convocation nearly three years ago, June 2015

Relevance II

I'm revisiting a lot of my older work. Collages, writing samples, journal entries, deep sad diary entries. I am proud. I am sad and angry at my own innocence and arrogance. I am enthralled with myself. I am shocked by the fragility and vulnerability that I approached things with. The way I approached life, relationships, my emotions, my ambitions, my inhibitions. It is a side of myself I don't think I see as much anymore. It's certainly a side of myself I try to limit the public from seeing. Gone are the days that I am so willing to bare open my chest, to flaunt the rawness of everything.

I'm not sure if I should be sad or happy or content or nothing about the way I am no longer her. I am not the same innocent, raw, vulnerable, unsuspecting girl I once was. Is this because I grew up? Do I still encounter things the same way I once did? Did I stop feeling along the way?

A thought that occurs to me time and time again: if I met the people I once fell in love with now, will we still fall in love? Will we still have the same interactions? Will the interactions be better? More intimate? More sustainable with more communication and respect? Will they exist at all? Will I still want these relationships to happen at all? Will they like the person I am today? Will I be less fearful in the way I encountered these relationships, these people? I often wonder.

In a yoga class not so long ago, the teacher says it is important to get rid of old patterns. To dig and confront the patterns - the bad, the ugly patterns. To build something new. To challenge where we otherwise may not.

I am digging through my past. The collages are a big part of that.

I hope I work through things soon. There's a lot of work to do. I hope you enjoy the collages. I hope you can still feel some of the emotion from some of my past. I hope she resonates with you in some way. I think she still does to me a bit.

Check-In

The time is 6:25PM.

I have four days. A changeover between two semesters. It is impossible to imagine that my first semester of this program is done. It is impossible to imagine that I am halfway through with this year, halfway closer to being with my future. To think that soon I can be truly meeting the people and the world that will make up the chunk of the next part of my life... That thought makes everything spin. It makes my heart skip a beat. Pound a little faster.

From the beginning of September to here has felt like a journey. It really has. I feel exhausted. I feel tested. I feel raw, exposed and so closed off. Some of it has been exhilarating, some of it daunting. Some of it was heartbreaking. Some of it I'm still afraid to put to words. Time has moved so quickly too, that I'm not really sure what has happened and what was a little made up. The human mind is so imperfect. Memory is half history, half design. I'm sure the reflecting I do in this little gap will change, will muddle with more time. It always kind of does.

If I were to imagine writing home, here's what I have to say:

1. I really like what I'm learning. I know I'm getting better at it.
2. Heartbreak took a huge toll on me. I didn't think he could hurt me the way he did. This is defining a lot more of my perspective, outlook and attitude than I want it to. I am not happy with where my romantic life and personal headspace are. 
3. I am going to have to work a lot harder to do the best I can. To be better, to be the best. I cannot complain about this. It's the only way to succeed.
4. Being in a position when I'm good at this, can really really be my dream job. I think.
5. I want to hustle. I know my body has its limitations and it has more limitations than others, but I never want to let this stop or define me or my opportunities and capabilities.
6. I will succeed. I refuse to do otherwise.
7. I am going to be happy. 
8. I am going to create something wholly myself, for myself, by myself. I am myself in every single way. I can look at things and decide without a doubt whether something is me, or isn't. I am going  to create something that is me, for me, by me. I will do it.
9. I will let my work speak for me when I cannot speak for me.
10. I'm both excited and terrified to start really dipping my toes into this world. Adland. This feeling makes me think I'm on the right path. 

One of my teachers help me with coming up a headline. She helps me place my own idea. She asks me what am I trying to say in the ugliest words? This was it. With nothing written well, I want to say that life hasn't been easy but I don't think it's supposed to. I think I can do it though. I think I can do it well. I'm up for the challenge. I'm not done fighting.

This is just the start.

Resolutions & Predictions

I've been doing this thing with my best friend for the past few years. At the end of each year, we do a round-up of the year. We put together our resolutions. Pretty typical stuff. We also do a predictions list- what are the good and bad things we think will happen to us this year. Here's mine.

PREDICTIONS
(This year, I decided to be more optimistic with my predictions. The key is to start the year off with some optimism. This is also part of my resolution this year.) 

1. You'll get more tattoos. 
2. You'll recommit to yoga.
3. Your body will continue to deteriorate.
4. You will get a job at an agency. 
5. You'll continue to prioritize travel in your life. You'll travel more. 
6. You'll meet someone worth dating. He'll be good for you.
7. You'll take better care of your body. 
8. You'll find more light in your world, and in yourself. You'll change your thinking/perspective.

RESOLUTIONS

1. A ride-or-die love.
   To stop settling for love/relationships that are anything but extraordinary. To stop letting loneliness and boredom dictate the level of love I feel I deserve. To quote, "There are so many mediocre things in life. Love shouldn't be one of them."
2. No fast fashion.
   See how long I might last with this challenge of no new clothes. See how I might react without this avenue of stress spending; reaction. I am still allowed to shop vintage and/or local. Some exceptions to this rule: jewellery, shoes and homeware.
3. Try Whole30 once. 
4. A year-long commitment to yoga (and meditation).
5. A commitment to health, and taking better care of this body.
   I want to cut out the unhealthy junk I put into my body. I want to learn how to manage my gut health. To drink more water. To manage better sleeping patterns. I want to try a less meat-heavy diet.
6. Learn not to overextend myself.
7. Be more conscious of the negativity I put into the world.
   How do I think more positively?
   How do I become a better source of light?
8.  Take a trip. Take trips. 
9. Don't forget your friends.
   Maintain your relationships despite your busy schedule. Put time aside for the people in your life so they will stay people in your life. Make time. Place value on these relationships.
10. Move towards vegetarianism. 
11. Control your drinking habits. Reassess your relationship with alcohol. 

23 Things I Learned In My 23rd Year

December is always a reflective month. The days get colder and shorter. The sun starts to set by 4pm when I am barely finished with class. The dark opens up questions that are easier to ignore in the sun and daylight. Another year is passing by quickly. It is my birth month.

When everything starts to turn to ice, I am reflecting more and more.

1. Live music is something important; something of a last salvation. 
2. There are really good men in the world. 
3. But it still may not work out, and that's no one's fault. 
4. It is better to invest in key pieces than it is to spend a little on a lot. 
5. Travel is important, but coming home is necessary. 
6. You will always have a home. 
7. You are entitled to nothing. You will always have to work hard, and then harder. 
8. Hold your body like something precious. 
9. You have a bigger impact on people than you realize. 
10. People see you as kind and sweet even if you do not understand why. 
11. Podcasts help make long bus rides go by much quicker. 
12. You have to end up on the west coast. You love the west coast.
13. Dancing can be a lot of fun. You have to remember to have fun and laugh.
14. I'll never have a real relationship with my sister.
15. You've changed. That's a difficult thing to do, to let happen. Honour it. 
16. Spending time alone to really love myself, is so so important. 
17. You choose people and don't, just as often as they do and do not choose you. 
18. Yoga is an important aspect of your life. Practicing is a good thing in your life. 
19. You're still the awkward child, but you're OK. 
20. In this life, you will lose yourself and find yourself constantly. 
21. You are not hard to love. 
22. You have to take better care of yourself. Your body will never heal fully. 
23. You will gain people and lose people. This is not something you will ever be able to control. 

An essay on breakups and funerals

It feels strange to be here. It feels strange to continue on. Mostly because of how simple it is to do just that. Wake up. Go to work. See friends. Feed yourself. Indulge in goodness and then some bad. Sometimes it feels like sadness overwhelms you, but mostly it is unbelievably easy to move on. The sadness, the ugliness of that part of life - we compartmentalize that away.

It hasn't been so long but it is already so easy to not see that part of my life, and then it becomes easier to forget that it existed at all. The part of a breakup that bothers and scares me so much is how much it resembles a death. It feels like dying. Only there is no burial or funeral process.

In a breakup as a funeral, it is a loss. Someone who became so important can become gone. It is strange, so strange how we stop talking. How is it that one day I will know all the mundane and intimate details about a person? But at another day, I cannot begin to say hello. The vain side of me hates that he can forget me so easily. The vain side of me hates that I can die, that I am dead in his world. A creased existence in his life.

I'm so bad at letting go. It makes so little sense to me when I have to. I don't want to.

In the past weeks, I have moved on. I see friends. I go to parties. I've gone on a date. I have done things that make me happy. Indulged in food, in wine, in sweat. In the positive attention and light of people who feel good. In many ways, it is surprisingly easy to move on. That part of a breakup is strange too. It is so easy for life to return to normalcy. For something that feels so devastating and dramatic in one moment, to leave no trace on any other aspect of life. Nothing else slows down or really changes. All the pieces that were there before continue to be there. All these other aspects; life unchanged. It is shocking how quickly and easily life can embrace someone and then how just as quickly and easily, it can spit someone out. No traces like they were never there to begin with. Like they will also never be there again.

In something I've seen recently, it said something like, our systems are designed to compartmentalize. To contain our bad moods, our sadness because otherwise, we would not be able to live. We have to be able to continue living. We cannot be so consumed by sadness that we do not move; cease to exist. Humans, in this way, are so resilient. Built to withstand the different destruction our world puts us through. Heartbreak cannot kill us. Not really. It's possible to forget. It is shockingly easy in fact. More inevitable than a possibility.

Soon, he is little more than a distant memory like the others have become. Visited only occasionally just like a burial site. It doesn't matter how well designed or how much money is put on a tombstone. Someday, a tombstone is just that. A tombstone, barely connected to memory. Barely visited.

I will become this to him. A tombstone in a graveyard part of his life. Little more than a distant memory no longer visited. I hate that I will be this to him. But we are the resiliency of the human spirit.

THE GALLERY WALL

I wanted to show off my gallery wall. Made up mostly of memories, personal paintings and art exhibits and galleries I've visited.

From the top, left to right (artists listed where they could be found):

1. A postcard from Tate Modern ("Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing" by Tracey Emin)
2. A print from the Ontario College of Art and Design
3. Petra Collins' solo exhibit at CONTACT Gallery ("Anna and Kathleen")
4. Postcard from San Francisco
5. An ad for Coppertone ripped out of a book
6. Instax photo of Charlotte and I at Voodoo Child Cafe in Toronto
7. An art postcard from ArtToronto 2015 ("Hypernurnia" by Mathew Borrett)
8. A photo strip of Charlotte and I at the Drake Hotel
9. A postcard from the Getty Centre in L.A.
10. My own watercolour painting
11. Instax photo of a potluck a few years ago (top), Devonte's going-away a couple years ago (bottom)
12. My own watercolour painting and collage 
13. A postcard from Tate Modern ("Untitled" 2003 by David Shrigley)
14. A postcard from the AGO ("Don't Tread on Me" by Basquiat and Andy Warhol)
15. Instax photo of a Starbucks holiday party two years ago (top), Mishi and I at North of Brooklyn Pizzeria in Toronto (bottom)
16. A photo of the mountains in Vancouver, 2017
17. A postcard from the AGO ("Anthony Clarke" by Basquiat)
18. A postcard from the AGO ("Study of Perspective - Tiananmen Square, Beijing" by Ai Weiwei)
19. A magazine cutout likely from Vice Magazine
20. A postcard from a local shop called I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU

What's New?

1. My pseudo-relationship ended last Wednesday. It was an hour and a half of crying, silent begging and deep sadness. We both cried. I texted him after having one too many at an open bar event. He didn't respond. 
2. Ontario colleges are on strike. As I'm writing this, we're heading into the third week and I'm more than frustrated. 
3. I saw King Krule this past weekend by myself. I often forget how good it feels to be at concerts. It is one of the few places I think that we can still feel salvation. 
4. Work at the new location is good. It gets a little tedious, but it's good. The people are nice. The pace is easier. It's more relaxed. 
5. Winter is settling in. 

My friend, Henrieta's tips to deal

1. Men need to show the fuck up.
2. The ideas of 'crazy' and 'just in my head' are bullshit.
3. Listen to your body and to your emotions.
4. You deserve to spend your valuable time with people who do not exacerbate your anxiety (fuck that shit).
5. You're not unreasonable. You are a rational and compromising person.
6. Beyond thinking if you're good enough for others, think about whether or not they're good enough for you. 
7. You will stop apologizing for being a full human, a full dynamic human. That means there are good and bad parts, including the parts you're trying to build. 
8. For anyone to only expect your good parts and fuck off when shit gets real, can fuck off. 
9. You are loved. You deserve love. 
10. EXPECT MORE. 

PROUST Q&A

FROM VANITY FAIR: The Proust Questionnaire has its origins in a parlour game popularized (though not devised) by Marcel Proust, the French essayist and novelist, who believed that, in answering these questions, an individual reveals his or her true nature. 

I first saw the Proust Questionnaire in MK and Ashley's Olsen one book, Influence. They answered the questionnaire themselves as well as giving it to the interviewees in their book. Somewhere under my bed in an old shoe box, I have old Proust Questionnaires that I've filled out over the years. I think it's interesting to see how our responses change over time. What influences us over the years? How has experience, society, fear, love change us? The Questionnaire featured in Influence included different questions but these are similar.

From October 2017, here are the questions and my answers. I encourage you to think about these questions, answer them. See how they change. My answers now certainly aren't the same as my answers at age 16.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Between adventure (seeing new things) and staying in bed with a special man.

What is your greatest fear?
Being abandoned.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I'm an awfully shy person.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Lack of kindness.

Which living person do you most admire?
My mother - for all her forgiveness, strengths and failures.

What is your greatest extravagance?
Clothing.

What is your current state of mind?
Between restlessness and tired

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Beauty

On what occasion do you lie?
When I feel that the truth cannot satisfy.

What do you most dislike about your appearance?
My skin.

Which living person do you most despise?
At this point, my last manager - without much vengeance but for the sake of the question.

What is the quality you most like in a man?
Kindness, patience, thoughtfulness.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Strength, courage, recklessness.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
My own indecisiveness

What or who is the greatest love of your life?
San Francisco and art

When and where were you happiest?
I am happiest when I travel, but I am pretty happy now. It feels like all the pieces of my life are falling into place.

Which talent would you most like to have?
Patience

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
I wouldn't be sick.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Surviving the most disastrous year of my life in 2012

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what would it be?
A cat or some part of a forest.

Where would you most like to live?
San Francisco, Vancouver, right here in Toronto

What is your most treasured possession?
All my journals, some of my books

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Feeling as if you're not quite good enough/ feeling immense blinding physical pain

What is your favourite occupation?
Lover

What is your most marked characteristic?
Cheeks and snark

What do you most value in your friends?
Kindness

Who are your favourite writers?
Murakami

Who is your hero of fiction?
The damaged.

Which historical figure do you most identify with?
I'm not sure.

Who are your heroes in real life?
My mom and my best friend

What are your favourite names?
Those named after cities and places

What is that you most dislike?
Entitlement

What is your greatest regret?
Doing too much and not doing enough; all the ways my heart is broken, all the ways I didn't like it open

How would you like to die?
Without stuff left to do

What is your motto?
The rose is without why.

Be curious, not judgemental.

Dear September

Please be kind to me.

Tomorrow, I am heading back to school after two years away. I am terrified. I was excited and nervous for so long. I am now terrified. I'm worried I won't be able to keep up. There's so much going on, and I know I always work better, learn better under pressure but I am a nervous thing. A scared, frightened thing. I've never been good with being wound up too much. Always a little reckless, always a springboard.

I really want this to work out. I really need this to work out - more than I am willing to admit, even with writing this now. I need this to work out. I need the blanks in my life to fall into place. I think above everything else, this is the thing that leaves me most insecure, most anxious. I don't like having no sense of direction in my life. I've never been good with aimlessness. I've been aimless. If this year of schooling goes well, if I work hard, if I am lucky- by the end of it, I can have a job. A real job. A creative job full of new opportunities, new people, new environments. I don't want to feel so lost. This is not an exploratory lost; this is a black, shadowy lost. It is "I-cannot-see-the-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel" lost.

This month will be juggling. It will be finding balance. It will be finding where my new calm is, where my safety in the midst of all this trouble will be. It will be the sweet spot between adventure and self-care.

I start a full-time program. It will be a little over twenty hours of lectures and labs, and however many hours spent working at home. I will likely start working at a new coffee shop where I will have to learn so many new things. I will still try to balance yoga into my days, weeks. It is something that both my body and mind need. I don't think it is something I can go long without anymore. There is something sacred about going to the classes, seeing the faces of my teachers, hearing their words. Their questions. I will try to schedule in a social life. I will try to date. I will try to make this go as well as I can.

I hope I make friends. I hope they're fun and we spend real time together. I hope we work well together. I hope that the program will not be so difficult that I cannot handle it. I hope I will enjoy my time. I hope that I will be happy, that I'll learn a lot. I hope I'll laugh a lot. Open my eyes a little more, have my world shifted into a new adventure that I'll be able to embrace. I hope I won't lose everything I've worked hard for up until this point. I hope I'll continue to work harder to let these new things fall into place too.

September, please be kind to me. Please let me be happy. Let me learn. Let me meet lots of people, make friends. Let things work out with this guy. I think I can really like him, or I do really like him. I think I need someone like this in my life. Stable, sweet, kind, patient. Please, please, please let things fall into place the way they need to be. Please let me learn balance, learn calm, learn a new sort of bravery to do all of this.

It all starts tomorrow. I hope I do well.

Talk to you later.

A Confessional

I read, “Unless it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it’s a waste of your time. There are too many mediocre things in life; love shouldn’t be one of them.” I watch the finale of How I Met Your Mother again. In the third to last episode, Ted, the show’s protagonist says, “Because love is the best thing we do.” I cry for an hour and a half and I am still sitting in bed with a stuffed red nose.

Because love is the best thing we do. Because love should not be another mediocre part of our lives.

I am half sitting, half laying in bed. I am naked and I have a cup of my favourite peach chamomile tea with honey. I am trying not to cry again. I am not sure why I feel so emotional tonight, but I might cry again.

I went on a date today and it didn’t go so well. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t well. It wasn’t good or passionate or even intriguing. It was so boring and dull. Across from me sat someone who was nice, who was smart and sensible, not unattractive. I will never see him again. I didn’t think he was funny. I didn’t think he was interesting, or fun, or wild. I always thought to myself I needed my men to be reckless. He inspired nothing. There was nothing wrong or different about him, or the situation. He was well and good, but he inspired nothing. It was mediocrity.

The last couple of weeks, I’ve been revisiting older pieces of writing. Vivid writing about old memories, so vivid that the memories soothed by time now come back forcefully. I am thinking about the boy I so innocently liked in my first year. I am thinking about the way we hung out and talked about music and movies and politics. I am thinking about the hours and hours and hours we spent together but never kissed. I am thinking about the way our friends and acquittances always wondered about whether or not we were dating. I am thinking of sweet Dalton and sweet me. I am thinking about Richard, the last guy I really dated - almost two years ago. I am thinking about laying in his bed, over the bar crowds and the screaming party. I am thinking about the way he used to talk to me, the way he used to look at me. I am thinking about the way he once traced my body. I am thinking about the way I thought about how nothing was quite right, but I didn’t want to give up on the comfort of having someone, of being with someone. The hope of someone. And then I think about Phil. I think about Phil and the fucking nightmare of a mess he left me.

My heart is heavy. I am 23 and it feels like I’ve been dragged through the mud too many times. I am 23 and my body deteriorates far more quickly than my age suggests. I am 23 and my heart is shattered, too jagged and confused to know anymore. I am 23 and I’ve never been in a serious relationship. I am 23 and I am still so hopeful but I don’t know how to get the pitter-patter feeling anymore. I don’t know how to feel excited about someone anymore. I am 23 and wondering how to resuscitate myself.

Tonight in between crying and here, I try to find an older couple who used to photograph themselves. They’re gone. Recently, I have a conversation with someone whose photography I have long admired. So much has changed. So many people have left. So many relationships have changed. So many circumstances have changed. Life has changed. The world around us has changed.

I am struggling. I am doing better. I have a bit of a sense of direction again. I am going back to school in the fall, for a path that is a bit clearer than it has been in years. I have a few good friends who are supportive and encouraging and present. I have stopped fucking in an effort to forget or replace. But what has began to feel more solid and smooth, has stripped away the passion I once felt. I have left behind a lot of friends because I didn’t want to explain myself one more time. I have almost stopped dating completely. I don’t feel the same passion or drive towards the arts. I have become complacent and grow more and more tired. I grow less and less inspired by life, and the people and movement around me. I want to resuscitate myself but I do not know how.

I want love. I want good. I want passion and drive and spirit and adventure. I want something that makes me feel alive. I am 23 and I feel like I am wasting away.

Writing Prompt

1. What's one thing that's happened to you that has made you a stronger person? 
2. What's one thing that's happened to you in your life that made you feel weak? 
3. Where is one place you feel most like yourself?
4. Where is your favourite place to escape to? 
5. Who do you think has had the largest influence on the person you are today?
6. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? 
7. If you had one day left to live, what would you do first?
8. What decade do you feel you most belong in?
9. Who are you closest to in your family? Why?
10. Who is the one person in this world that knows you best?
11. What is your favourite quality about your best friend?
12. When you were younger what did you think you were going to be when you grow up? 
13. If you could identify with one fictional character (from a book, show, or movie) who would it be?
14. Do you easily accept compliments? Or do you hate compliments?
15. Is your favourite attribute about yourself physical or non-physical? 
16. What is your favourite physical attribute about yourself?
17. What is your favourite non-physical attribute about yourself?
18. Do you believe in love at first sight?
19. Do you believe in soulmates?
20. How seriously do you take horoscopes?
21. Have you ever been in love? How many times?
22. What makes you fall in love with someone?
23. What does vulnerability mean to you? What has the ability to make you vulnerable?
24. What's one thing you're scared to ask a man, but really want to?
25. If you were a man for a day, what would be the first thing you do?
26. What do you find most attractive about each sex?
27. What's one thing you'd love to learn more about?
28. What is something you've never done that you've always wanted to do?
29. Why haven't you done it yet?
30. If money didn't matter, what would your dream job be?
31. If you had today off from work, what would you do?
32. What was the last thing that made you cry?
33. What was the last thing that made you laugh? 
34. What is your favourite memory?
35. What's the last thing that really embarrassed you?
36. What is your biggest fear?
37. Do you have any regrets? What's your biggest one?
38. What is the craziest thing you've ever done?
39. Would you have a conversation with a stranger?
40. What's your favourite joke?
41. If you could be any animal, what animal would you be?
42. How do you think your parents would describe you as a child?
43. If you could go back to any age or time of your life, what age or time would it be?
44. What's something you believe in that not everyone else does? 
45. What's one thing you would say that makes you unique from other people?
46. What is one thing you feel your life is missing? 

On the 23 Women Who Inspire Me

Nico writes a list of 29 women who have shaped his life. A woman for every year of his life. These are women who helped him grow, who gave him love, taught love. "An ode to the women that taught me how to love." 

Inspired by Nico, I wrote a list of 22 men who have been storms in my life. They are men who have taught me strength and resilience, courage and recklessness. They are men who have built me and broke me. Encouraged me and forced me to grow.

Men and masculinity are so often thought of in violent, active terms. Men are not quiet. They are not soft or tender. Masculinity represents strength and aggression. They are forceful and hard. They are the storms of my life. Storms are beautiful, and they're necessary. When we are broken, we grow. But when we are whole, we also grow. The women in my life have made me whole.

If men are storms, then women are oceans. Women are the oceans that will always look clear, that will always fold back to envelop. They are the calm and powerful. They refresh and renew. They erode and demolish. Women are the calm you envision, but the strength and true, sheer durability that you sometimes forget. It is women and femininity that is uplifting and grounding. Soothing and paralyzing. So, a woman for every year of my life.

To my mother, Janny, who is everything that supports, nurtures and cripples me. Mom is constant love, sacrifice, care and attention. Mom is constant worry, expectation, and hope. Mom is always, always and will forever be home. I don't have words to express the importance of my mother in my story, my upbringing, my life, my values. Everything. Mom, I know I wasn't an easy child. I'm not an easy person- always an underlying illness even when I wasn't sick, a selfish child, a lonely child, someone caught up in her own world. I think you've done so well with me though. You've worked so hard. Thank you for that. Thank you for always trying to support me. You're the first person I want to share my excitement with, and the person I never want to disappoint.

To my aunt, Lisa, who has always been the symbol of fun and adventure. A kind of carefree. You've always had a story to tell, always a smile to share. Always there to listen to my stories, and to encourage them.

To my grandmother, Yuk Mui, someone who has seen too much of the world, its brilliance and its terror. My grandmother who was a child living through the Sino-Japanese War. My grandmother who travelled across the world to start a life where she truly knew no one and nothing. My grandmother who kept going, continues to keep going. On the other side of the coin, my grandmother who braved the world and never forgot its horrors and chaos. My grandmother who never forgave the world for the sadness it caused her. My grandmother who never got over the anger and an entitlement to something better. My grandmother who is relentless, but scared of death, scared of quiet. My grandmother is part of a world I will never understand, but maybe it's for that I should thank her endlessly.

To my best friend, Ellen, who is more of a sister than she is a friend. Ellen, who I have known since I was a year and a half and she was born. Ellen, who I talk to almost daily. Who I'm not afraid of exposing myself to; my secrets, vulnerabilities, flaws and mostly, my inconsistencies. In so many ways, we are so different but in so many ways, we are also the same. If I was to fall, you are what ties me to the Earth. You keep me grounded, truthful and accountable. I don't know where to begin or where to end when it comes to you, or us. I think you're how I stay together. Thanks for understanding. Thanks so much for understanding more than anyone can or ever will.

To Amma, who has been the best mentor and friend. Thank you for being a presence in my life, for you've always, always been such a positive influence. I think beyond our old school, career and boy talks, the thing that stood out the most was how bright you are as a person. You radiate so much light and so much kindness. So much goodness. I cannot wait to see you at your wedding, and I cannot wait for all the happiness that life, as you said before, will bring. That's the best thing you taught me - to look forward.

To Charlotte, who I ask about all things in life. Love, health, friendship, biology, things on the Internet, drugs, everything. I remember talking to you for the first time on that walk to the football game, and then sitting in your room till 3 o'clock in the morning that same day with Chris. We then spent so much of our time at Queen's together. We lived together for three years, basically four. You've seen me do some stupid things. You've seen me naked. You've seen me at some of my best and my absolute worst. And vice versa. We've done some fun things together, some boring things together, and everything in between. It's funny how things work out that way. I really don't know where I'd be without you the past 5 or so years. I see you so much and often as my voice of reason, and kinda my lifeline. I don't know how to express all of that without being cheesy... You're great. Actually, in your words, you're perfect.

To Mishi, who I shared almost every single dumb and drunk and fun adventure with in my four years at Queen's. My fellow Sagittarius who always sought a little adventure, always willing to do something, always willing to play the odds a little. When I think of us, I think of drunkenly walking down Kingston streets late at night. I think of laying in your bed and falling asleep while doing nothing at all. I think of all your weird meal combinations. I think of someone who makes me laugh, who makes me feel so cared for and loved. I think of tequila shots. When I think of us, I think of shouting to you in the next room. To be honest, I can't really think of those four years of my life without you in every frame. 

To Evasha, my first roommate. Maybe it's because we were roommates and at such a critical part of my life thus far, having you in my life feels like such a sense of security. You're always there to listen, without judgement. Or not, because you also throw in some of the shadiest comments. That's one of the things I miss a lot about you and Kingston- it's the regular everyday chats. It's swapping stories and anecdotes and that was us.

To Sarah. From the very first week of Queen's to now, it is so strange and lovely to see how our friendship has manifested. You are the sweetest, kindest, most generous person and I am so happy and lucky to have you in my life. Honestly, you bring such happiness and joy to my life. I miss you. I miss our time together. I miss hanging out - whether it is at the mall, in the library or just sharing a nap in my room. We always did have fun.

To Jenny, who I always saw as my cooler older sister. I have and continue to so admire you for the way you are, the way you have always been and continue to be. You are so fearlessly yourself, so fiercely and unapologetically independent. You have always had such clarity in how you approach life. I always aspired to be like you in that way. I know we don't see each other that often, but when we do, things feel so natural. They feel like an old piece of home. Even in the way that our friendship continues, I feel that kind of steady confidence that you've always exuded.

To my cousin, Michelle, who faces the world with a kind of bravery and independence and attitude. No one quite does it like Michelle, is what I always thought growing up. I like the way you've always approached the things in your life. You never backed down from what you wanted. You've always demanded a certain level of respect. I love that. I think this about you, is going to make you an amazing mother. I already see it. 

To Kelly, who I lost before I learned how to say sorry, before I learned how to put aside my pride and admit to my own anger. I'm sorry I never said I was wrong. I'm sorry I was angry and I took it out on you, on something that was never your fault and entirely my own. You were an amazing friend, and you saw me in a much kinder light than I deserved.

To Henrieta, the one I discuss everything big with. The one who challenged me intellectually, the one who demanded me to go further creatively. I remember our drawing sessions where we spent as much time discussing politics, philosophy, culture, life, art as we did any art. I think this was an important part of my life in Kingston. I needed someone who understood and sought after all those parts of life. No one else does adventure or living quite like you.

To Jennifer, who I shared so much of my growing up with. Who I used to sit by the skatepark with, making up stories for the boys, making up stories for the rest of our lives. You are a part of so many of my stories and so many of my memories. An undeniable part of my teens and also my young adulthood. I think the most significant thing to say, is that you were part of my discovery. The discovery of myself, of people, of culture, of adventure, of alcohol, of boys. Also, you're one hell of a muse.

To my first and second grade teacher, Ms. Brown. I think I will always remember you as the sweetest, most caring teacher I will ever have the absolute pleasure to meet. Years later, thinking back to some of the things you did for us, it is so easy to see how well suited you were to teaching young children. Their first encounter with the outside world. Thank you for showing this frightened child so much kindness, for encouraging her as much as you did. I still journal all the time. Thank you for giving me that.

To Nefisa, the girl who will change the world. I really believe that. You've always been so brilliant. The way you see the world and the tireless way you work. You're always someone I look up to, always someone who I can count on for support. Also, always someone who can make me laugh and open up a little more to the world.

To Danielle, who I have to thank for so many amazing opportunities. This program and your guidance was pivotal in how I see the world, how I know the world today. I know how lucky I am to have been part of this program. It offered us so many connections that we wouldn't have had otherwise. It helped me learn about the world, and the possibilities that I haven't seen before. You were at the centre of all that. You worked so tirelessly for us to get all of that. You also went above and beyond. It's really like family. I'll always see it as family.

To Auntie Tunnie, my mom's best friend and my babysitter as a little babe. In my own world, what is really my world and the people in it, you are who I always thought of as so much wisdom. A gentle, kind and patient wisdom. Someone who is humble. I adore you. I always have, even as a kid. I continue to now, and I think it's still so obvious. Maybe embarrassingly so. Your daughter is wonderful too. It's so eye opening seeing how she's growing up. When she was little, she reminded me so much of myself but as she's growing, I can see how wonderful she is on her own. She's going to do wonderful things, and I'm sure it's because of your presence. 

To Patty, my middle school best friend. I remember continuously walking the track during lunch breaks. I remember discussing boys over the phone. I remember the crying as we discussed the boys. I remember the first touch of teenage emotion, angst, drama; the vindictiveness of it all. Before 13-year-olds were ever cool, there was us and the way we saw the world that was too simple and too complicated. You were a simpler period of my life, but also when things became so much more complicated. 

To Erline and Kaley. I once read about the people you invite to your wedding. I'm not getting married any time soon, but the article suggested that you invite new friends as well as your really old friends. New friends who have the potential to stay in your life, shape your life; who you really enjoy having in your life. I always say that my coworkers at Starbucks are the sweetest people. You guys are that. But beyond that and our shared interests, it is also the discussions we have when we're together. It's so enlightening the way you guys see the world because of our different experiences growing up and existing in the world. This is always precious. We are bonded by mutual annoyances and interests, strengthened by food and the way we talk about life, learn about life and all its nuances.

To my yoga teacher, Krista, who sees the world in a way I want to learn. A world I want to be a part of. For me, Krista encourages a kind of juxtaposition in life so easily forgotten. I'm asked to push my body in ways I'm not used to, to challenge the pain and discomfort in my body that I so easily shy away from. I've always been told my body is a fragile thing and I can never be too careful with it. Here, I'm told to challenge. To respect my body, but to challenge it. I'm told of the power and strength of my body instead of its fragility. I'm told to play instead of staying in the shadows.

And finally to Hanna, who I have never met but write to, both in letters to her and in the back of my mind. Hanna, who is beautiful in the way she holds herself, the way she encounters the world, the way she lets the world encounter her. Hanna, I could lose and have lost myself in your words. I've also found myself and continue to find myself in your words too. Truly the embodiment of a force of nature. 

I wrote saying that a list of women would be easier to write. Women have always been there to inspire me, encourage me, support me. Women have always been there to protect and care for me in a way that the men in my life never have. Women, who have always served as the beacons of beauty, grace, kindness in my life. I'm not sure where I will be without them. I'm not sure how I will be without them. Women are everything. The past, present and future. Always existing and present.

23

My birthday is in less than two hours. I'm sitting in my bedroom just in my underwear. I have a cup of lemon honey tea, and I can barely feel my arms. It's the sort of tired where it feels like my arm might drop off. I'm still sweaty from a hot yoga class. I know I'll probably look like a mess tomorrow when I wake up at 5:30AM for work. I have scratches on my wrist, small bruises on my hand, legs and breasts. Most of which I don't know where from. I look in the mirror and I see the way my body rolls, gorges and rounds. I see all the things I'm unhappy about, but also all the ways that this fragile body of mine has lasted, has endured.

I'm going to be 23. That's twenty-three times around the sun. Twenty-three years of growing, of learning, of being stupid and of trying to manifest some sort of intelligence and wisdom. In 23 years, I've tried to learn some kindness, learn some things about politics, some philosophy. Tried to learn how to be less selfish, how to be more forgiving, more patient. So many things that I can look into my life and say I've succeeded at and I've failed at. It is a constant process of learning. Of becoming. We never stop becoming, and that's the trick they don't tell you. We will never stop learning. We will always be in the process of becoming.

23 feels like a big number. It feels like it will be a big year. I hope that it will be a big year. I think I need it to be a big year of change, a significant leap or jump. A change in chapter and direction. Something needs to feel like progress, look like growth; needs to feel like the ache of building.

I wonder in twenty-three years, what have I learned? In my twenty-third year, what will I learn?

• I've learned some of what I need in a relationship. I need stability, communication, some sense of commitment. I need excitement. I need good sex. I need someone passionate, someone at least a little reckless, adventurous, intelligent. I need someone who makes me laugh; to share laughter with. I need someone I'm not scared of talking to. I need someone to be vulnerable with. 
• I've learned about timing. Not all things are meant to last forever. Not all things are meant to even begin. There is a time and a place for everyone and everything. It's no one's fault. Just the way life goes.
• I've learned about being alone. Being alone happens. Loneliness happens. Surrounded in a crowded room with strangers or friends, loneliness happens. There is nothing wrong with being alone or feeling lonely. It helps us learn. It helps us explore. It helps us grow.
• There is a time to fight and a time to flow. Some things are worth fighting for, fighting against. Like working out of a bad situation, the way your body can stiffen and harden, the opportunities that you have to fight tooth and nail to have and to keep. Some things you have to just accept and ride out. Like drugs. 
• Try to live in the moment. There is only so much we can do about the past or the future. But also, remember that the moment passes. Whatever is bad now won't always be bad. Everything, good or bad, keeps moving. What is bad now, or what is good now might not be so bad or good in a week. Flow. Breathe. 
• The Good People exist. They're worth waiting for. They're worth finding. I know I forget this often, but I have to know that this is true. 
• I've learned about the importance of travel. Or more specifically, of unfamiliarity. The unfamiliar opens our eyes. We learn so much about the world and ourselves when we travel, when we explore. When we see the world with fresh eyes; child's eyes. 
• Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Loosen your jaw. Remember to breathe. Cry if you want to. Always strive for that deep belly laughter. 
• I've learned the importance of letting go, even if I don't quite know how to do this yet.
• I've learned so much about myself. Every new adventure, every new task, every problem or conflict, every time I feel so angry or so sad. Every time I feel uplifted, happy, disappointed. I am learning so much about myself, my past, my own personality, my ability and capacity to handle challenges and discomfort. How I handle fear. 
• I've learned to cook. 
• I've learned how to push my body. Through yoga, through colds, through sickness. Through the daily everyday practices of living. 
• I've learned the importance of not knowing. The importance of mystery and ambiguity. There doesn't have to be an explanation or a rationale. Things happen. Life happens. That's just the way it goes. 
• I'm learning how to smile through it all. How to breathe, how to step back and enjoy it anyways. I'm not any good at this, but I'm trying. I'm learning. 
• Et cera, et cera... 

I want things to go well. I always want things to go well. I want all the things that didn't happen this year, to happen next year. I want to embrace the world more, its people more, myself more. I want love, I want the start of a career, I want the bonds I already have to continue to strengthen and last. I want money. I want some sense of stability and upwardness in my life. I want to get my full license. Maybe a cat. I want to see things more from my parents' point of view. I want to learn more of their history and why they think the way they do. I don't want to disappoint my parents. I want to worry them less. I want more tattoos. I want my body toner and leaner. I want my skin to be better, to be less angry with me. I want to accept my body more for the way it is, but to never stop pushing for better. I want to keep up with yoga. I want to paint and draw, and I want to make this consistent and a real practice. I want nice clothes. I want to spend less money on trivial things. I want to be happy. I want to be more vulnerable. I want to do more for my friends. I want the Good People in my life, and more of them. I want to be around creative people. I want to be around kind people. I want to be loud and embracive of life. I don't want to back down from challenges. I want to move past the Fear. I want, I want, I want. I will have.

Every year is another year, another chapter, another start. Every month is another month, another chapter, another start. Every week is another week, another chapter, another start. Every day is another start. Every day is another opportunity for something to change everything.

22 was good. 23 will be good. 23 will be great. It will be to challenge, to endure, and to strive.