Untouched, but forever touching

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The dust has settled on the surface
Relaxing with the certainty of one so still,
One so sure of their place in the world

Beneath our feet
Above our heads
Everything in between

How did they arrive at such a juncture?
When did they acquire the wisdom of belonging, of rootedness?
Where and by what methods did they congregate so impressively?

So unified are they, that to grant them plurality
Is a blasphemy of the English language
The dust, they are called – not dusts

So infuriating is their flight
Swept away, they are displaced
But never out of place

So infuriating is their nonchalance
Finding equal footing amongst ledges or leaves
Shrugging their shoulders as they land in some niche

So infuriating is their nondiscrimination
Mingling with paraphernalia of the past and present alike
They touch everything, unaffected by associations

Sometimes I wish I were the dust
Flying, nonchalant, indiscriminate
Carefree, irreverent, nomadic

Amongst ledges or leaves
In the past or the present
Untouched, but forever touching

A collage in progress (or, my life right now)

Have you ever thought of something you ate, and felt the flavors grow and almost float off your tongue, like a mist? Hmm, a baby mango dipped in shrimp paste… Trenchant, crunchy, eye-twitchingly tangy.

Do you ever get that same sensation, when you think of a period of your life?

I categorize my life into collages.

For example, I h610cb7284b9c476ef01010a1e886c005ave a mental photo album called From College Student to Working Professional.

When I recall this time, there are emotions I feel that create a collage in my head. A collage of anxiety, blind panic, and financial stress – not the most appetizing flavors of life I want to experience. I recall grappling with learning how to drive a stick shift trying to get to work, or feeling my gut crunch up every month paying off student loans. My car and my bills – the two most common images that come to mind from that phase.

In distinct contrast, when I think of the island I grew up on, it is a completely different congregation of memories. Days of equator sunshine, eating coconuts that I opened myself, and short drives […]

Coffee date #1: In limbo

Have patience. In times of indecision and confusion, certainty is often just one insight away.

–Donna M. Thomas

You ever have that situation at work where a situation lingers on because someone kept changing their mind – or worse – no one made a decision?

Ever since my first foray into the professional world, I’ve discovered some things about myself. One of them is this: I am not okay with ambiguity.

There are many things in my life right now that are in transition, and this sense of undecided-ness lends a certain awkwardness and clutter to the projects I want to start and the things I want to learn. It is akin to seeing an unfinished building dripping electrical cables, or a stone sculpture half-chiseled into definition.

I feel like I’m just waiting for a sign – a more concrete sign than that of my own feelings – to make a decision on one of these things currently in transition. I have always had a certain distrust for my own feelings. Maybe that’s why I flip-flop so much on my choices.