Making sense of the stars

I drew the universe on my
Hand yesterday, the stars
Dripping from my fingers to my
Palm, in cobalt blue acrylic
Paint, and whirls of white and
Grey, encircling freckles of
Black over and over and
Over, until my wrist drowned in
Colour and the cosmos
Glimmered through uncertain
Strokes of paint and careless
Flickers of starshine.

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How To Be Happy

One day, you’re standing in your kitchen and making coffee. You open the refrigerator and take out a bowl of fruit. In your mind, you make a mental list of the things you have to do today. Doctor’s appointments and errands and cleaning. You fit in a visit to the bookstore and a movie in there, to make yourself happy. In the distance, you can hear a song playing. Somehow, that song really speaks to you. Gradually, the doctor’s appointments and errands and visits all clear out of your mind, and all you can think of is that song. Where did you hear it last? Why does it mean so much? And suddenly, you’re back in 7th grade, your feet in the water, at your best friend’s pool party. You’re thinking of yesterday’s homework and today’s birthday cake.

Slowly, your feet dry up. The birthday cake gets over. Your coffee is ready, and your bowl of fruit is waiting for you on the kitchen counter. You get up, drink the coffee, and head out to the bookstore- to make yourself happy.

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Be Vulnerable

Be vulnerable, sometimes. Imagine scenes in your mind and wait for them to happen. And when they do, be vulnerable. Let life happen to you, sometimes. Let swivels of emotion wreck you. Be vulnerable to the things people tell you, and be vulnerable to yourself. Say things you wish other people would say to you, and feel deeply about incidents that matter to you. Be vulnerable to words and waves and winks. Learn the way people punctuate their text messages, sometimes. Let yourself be immersed in the stark white pool of human consciousness. Swim in the hungry waves of intensity. Bask in the light of lovelorn smiles and soft whispers.

Be vulnerable, sometimes. 

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Sleep

(I wrote this in math class-so clearly, the theme had to be sleep. Also the clouds looked pretty)

Clouds drift away when
No one’s looking, but if you
Stare at them closely enough
You can see them move, slowly
Gliding through the horizon, and
Making shapes in the sky, and
Before you know it, you drift
Away too, and you find yourself
Gliding through the spaces between
Thin air, and your mind gets
Entangled in dreams,
Nightmare, and
Pure white nothingness.

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Etched

My life is like a box of
Graded pencils, with
Sharp, silver strokes to
Write numbers and
Names, and soft, grey
In-betweens to fill in
Empty spaces, when
The contrast doesn’t
Do art justice, and
Bold, hungry, black
Slashes, my darkling
Drawls
Of confidence.

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– Emily White

Ambivalence

And I took all the words you
Said, and wrapped them over and
Over, around each other, and
Twisted and turned them until they
Fit into the spaces between thin
Air, and I took all your frowns and
Smiles, and put them into glass
Vials, arranged height-wise, on
My wall, and stared at them, hoping,
That one day, your words would
Appear through gusty winds, and your
Snarky smile would burst out of a
Tiny glass vial and maybe,
Maybe, I would smile right back.

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Choices

Saying yes is always, in some
Ways, saying no, but in most cases, we
Only see the worlds we choose to
See, and the unknown wraps itself in
Thin air, and vanishes into crevices between
The spines of books and the pale, white
Peeling walls of your
Grandparent’s attic, and it doesn’t
Manifest in choices, but instead, creeps into
Your day-dreams and forever remains an
Urging, incessant, what if.

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Fire

Because women are told to yell
Fire, because wearing bullet-proof jackets is
Somehow smarter than not pressing the
Trigger, because people will stare at me if I
Raise my voice, because being ‘Lady-like’ transcends having
Basic human rights.

Because women
Are told to
Yell

Fire.

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Memorabilia

I drag my red revolving chair and
Reach my desk, only to find it
Cluttered with books and letters and
Empty ink cartridges, which I should’ve thrown
Away in the first place, but I realise that I
Don’t have enough place to study, so I
Start clearing things up, and stumble upon old
Invitations to parties I didn’t attend, and
Polaroid pictures of my dog, and I
End up not studying at all, because my
Mind is now filled with memorabilia from
Sunny days, the desk is overflowing with
Keychains and novels with the pages
Turned, and I trudge, drowning in
Old souvenirs, and I slowly drag the
Red revolving chair right back to
Where I started.

-Humberto Barajas Bustamante

-Humberto Barajas Bustamante

10 Things I Would Never Tell You

1. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of myself. I’m afraid of the fact that the second I accept myself, I change again.

2. I cannot list down my fears. In my mind, this implies that there might be a never-ending list, or a list that creates and recreates itself everyday.

3. I cannot meet the universe halfway. I cannot let things happen to me. But I have to.

4. I like light too much to turn it off. But when I enter the room and greet darkness, I never reach for the light switches.

5. I like living in metaphors and similes, and I detest the fact that I do.

6. I’m too naive to know otherwise.

7. I like writing letters to my past self, even though they’re full of fuzzy platitudes.

8. I like book titles more than books, sometimes.

9. I have nightmares that are too similar to reality.

10. I tell myself to smile every now and then. I like not sharing my popcorn with anyone, and roaming around the market alone. But I would never tell you that.

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