12/23/2010 § Leave a comment

what do you do when your heart aches ?



here in the corner of this walled-garden.

12/20/2010 § 1 Comment

i wore a long black skirt that day, and had thrown a pink polo on as an afterthought – my outfits were all over the place in college. the sun shone into the square, draping the windows in a light gold. i saw him ride up on his bike, as planned, and pull up to our corner. he climbed up the slope of grass and sat down under the shade of a tree.

i approached him, heart quickening like a girl with a crush too big for her, and sat down by his side. the grass felt pleasantly cold beneath my fingertips, brightly green and protected by the arms of the tree above us. here in the corner of this walled-garden, on this sunlit afternoon, we too were safe, we too were glowing.

i straightened my skirt and laid down, my head reclining into his lap, and smiled quietly into his kind, brown eyes. he brushed my hair gently behind my right ear and smiled:

“you are beautiful.”

i believed him then. we were perfect then.

it is one of the few memories of us i recall in such detail.

on the 20th.

12/20/2010 § Leave a comment

looking through these recent entries, there is an odd pattern. i’ve written one entry per month, each published on the 20th.

october 20th.
november 20th.
december 20th.

what is it about this day of the month that unleashes unto the world what i keep in the dark all other 29 days ?

tonight, at 1:15am, we will see the moon glow red, and coincide with the winter solstice. this has not happened in 372 years. this makes me feel giddy and small all at the same time.

how i wish a writer in cold dark russia would be so inspired by tonight’s event that he take this small but extraordinary blip in the history of All Things Beautiful and transform it into The Great Love Story. and having once read it, remind our sad souls the things we forget.

how timing, at precise intersections, can extract all color from the world.

or, for the struggling optimist, how it can recreate and give birth to Light.

remember that the world cannot know Dark without life-giving and precious Light.

just as we can’t fully grasp Joy rushing through our weightless bodies without heart-stopping, breath-cutting, soul-violating, Gutting Pain.

tonight, 150,000 lives will see the last of their days. 380,000 will see their first.

wishing the best to us to all tonight.

dream log no.010

11/20/2010 § Leave a comment

i dreamt that you were here.

i dreamt that i was asked to dance by someone else and we flew round and round the room. it was lovely and made my heart go up and down. he had twinkles in his eyes and a tender smile.

we went inside the building, a maze of darkness, rooms locked and unlocked, short stairs giving way to other stairs, splitting here, and continuing there. i entered the one on the left, after the second set of stairs and saw a fruit stand. on top of it, my dear friend gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. on the other side of the fruit stand, i waited for him and he came to me.

she had already started it, and i was horrified.

someone passed away and i was broken and devastated. to immortalize their passing, i took a bottle filled to the brim in pomegranate red liquid and tore its top off. as if taking part in a tradition, i ran from a tunnel, across the streets, and into the maze-like building and cried your name, with the bottle in my right hand.

you will never be forgotten, though already i can longer remember your name.

who were you ?

i want to go home.

10/24/2010 § Leave a comment

the wind nips. the wind howls. i sit here in the warmth of my apartment, safe from the world outside, and find myself longing for another kind of warmth. i don’t need much though i can sometimes act like i do, but i can’t go long without my family; seeing my sister this weekend was a gentle reminder. i want to dream with them, eat with them, sit side by side with them. tonight, i want to go home.

moments of quiet.

09/20/2010 § 1 Comment

i relish these nights, where i sit and do nothing. except i don’t do nothing. rather, i grow into a quiet and amused observer of these walls that surround me and attempt each time to sculpt the empty air. in moments my fingers have plotted what they understand to be The World, if only so that they may reconfigure the edges of the fractured beauty into what i once glimpsed as The World Beyond.


08/26/2010 § Leave a comment

melissa textor

you build them up, they break you down.
mountains, valleys.