Tag: journal

Sent: 9:53 PM

The sun has set hours ago

I’m still at my desk –

Where I was

Hours ago

Scrunch my face up, squeeze my eyelids shut. Open again, same blue screen.

Halfway between “I should do this tomorrow” and “I want to get this done tonight.” Fighting made-up deadlines.

Someone might has well have closed their eyes, swirled their finger in the air, and put it down on a date.

Yet here I am, four hours after closing time, racing against the invisible clock that someone chained around my neck.

Sometimes I miss the days before the pandemic, when an email after 7 pm would have warranted a “what were you doing in the office so late?”

Now, it’s 9:30 and my inbox pings with a new email from some other poor wretched soul, working themselves late.

I type my boss’ name in the CC line – hoping he notices how hard I’ve worked by how late I sent the email. But wait! Maybe I don’t want them to realize I’ve sent the email so late. What if they think I’m slacking at home during the day, and only do my work when late night inspiration strikes?

Fuck it. I’ve put in the work all day – and night. Let them judge timelines if they must.

I re-read my email, hoping the late workday delirium hasn’t clouded my ability to form a sentence. Does it all make sense? I think so.

Add a final “thank you,” in lieu of “fuck you” to the end of the email. Add my name in case anyone’s forgotten who they’re talking to.

Give a quick scan for anything my lazy eyes didn’t catch just a second before. Am filled with an urgent desire to just get it over with, and press send

Swoosh.

Sent: 9:53 PM

fountain pen

one thing I can tell you is that I love the texture of a good pen

the feeling of the scrape, or glide, against the grainy paper

the sound of scribbles, etches, curves and swirls

the simple joy of writing filling me with desire to fill the page

doodling for the sake of seeing how the ink flows

journaling for the sense of letting it out

pouring myself out deliciously via pen

Take time

If there is one thing I wish I could go back in time and remind myself over and over again growing up, and to never feel ashamed about, is to take time for yourself. Take the time you need to reach the goals you have and do what you want with your life. If you don’t take the time when you’re right in the middle of figuring everything out, when will you ever have the time? If you keep putting off thinking about life, thinking about the big things, you’ll lose yourself in the small things. 

And the thing about small things is – they make you feel small. They make you forget about the enormity of life and the absolute infinite expanse that is your destiny, your soul, your path. The small things box you in, cut you down, until you no longer remember what it was like to stand tall anymore. 

Stand tall. Reach higher. Think big. Take time.

too long

it’s been too long

i’ve been thinking about you

do you think about me

as often as I dream of you?

 

time has passed

but you’re stuck in my head

as if you’ll never leave

hopefully I’ll move on instead

 

it’s been too long

me thinking about you

and pretty sure

with me, you’ll have nothing to do.

 

cat lady

sat in bed with a cat on my lap

reading a book – or deciding whether to nap

alone in my room, just me and the cat

calm and quiet, nothing can compete with that.

 

as the years pass, I wonder and ask

if anyone in life will be up to the task

of standing next to me, for all to see

a relationship – a “you and me”

 

after many nights

a few good fights

we’ve arrived where we’re at

next to you

sat in bed with a cat in my lap