you found someone who found you

if your body is a temple or a home or a vehicle or or or… does anyone know? you never treated your body as anything more than a hindrance, a casually exploited vessel that held so many of your insecurities. you never found yourself. your friends would dye their hair or pick their own clothes or get a cool new haircut and all you've known is ridicule. almost 30 and still your mom criticizes your hair, your stomach, your clothes, every single facet of your body is her's to pass judgement on and always has been. your friends would do the same, the clothes you didn't pick out lambasted and your paltry, scrawny, young looking frame a target verbally and physically. lately you found someone you found yourself with. you feel like you can do the things to the temple you never have. your color is different, you try things, some might not work but the learning has to occur. you show her clothes you try on and it's hard and anxiety inducing at first when you see someone else besides her standing there, but you know that she is not your mother, not waiting for a chance to pounce at something not looking good enough - to her you will always look good enough.  it took someone else to make you feel like you had command over yourself. might sound just like a guy, sound like a romcom, sound like a cliché, sound like a weakness, sound like a subplot, sound like growth, what other people think it is doesn't matter. just like what you do to the temple. it's a gift you will never look back upon.

ny/ny (new year new you)

you know it wasn't like, a really long streak or anything, but for several new years there you combined xanax and alcohol until you collapsed onto your bed and that was it. your last new years you didn't and that was good, and then this one you didn't either (there were other things). you were very happy this time. happy when midnight hit, happy in the leadup to it, happy all the next day, happy about a 2019 that you thought could build on 2018. you used to not make resolutions because you knew you'd fail. now you're smarter. it isn't even about whether you 'fail' or not. you are here and you are home and you are in love. resolutions are just another possibility.

what you eat/are

"tell me what you eat, and i will tell you who you are" is a well-worn quote from one Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, and it is frequently used in similarly well-worn (read in both examples herein: overused) jokes along the lines of, to paraphrase internet parlance, "hahahaha i eat ass im an ass then hahahahaha." the original quote was meant to suggest that one's cuisine, taste, and food consumption, says much about them and who they are and where they come from. given, however, the rapidly ascendant meat heavy western diet now exploding in popularity in places like China, and given that the potato is also slowly pushing out rice as the global food staple, given that it is cheaper on a per calorie basis, one might be apt to conclude that, in a few hundred years, one will not have to ask what one eats, for we will all be, quite simply, meat and potatoes.

luna and the swan

a common english idiom, such as an idiom can be considered common, given their seemingly gradually decreasingly extant existence, is to express that something seemingly uncommon or rare in occurrence is equivocal to happening "once in a blue moon." a blue moon, nominally occurring once every 2 to 3 years, could indeed be used, metaphorically, to ascribe rareness to an occurrence that happens infrequently, as most of us, it could be surmised, would describe something happening less than once a year rather lacking in commonality. however, one finds that, if one were to reside in the midwestern us, the phrase may actually, instead, be interpreted differently - if one were to attribute a physical good that occurs frequently to said idiom. a quick perusal of any ice cream parlour in the midwest will almost certainly reveal an ice cream flavor described thusly as "blue moon ice cream," its blue color, of course, a seemingly intentional (or perhaps not) misinterpretation of an actual blue moon, whose astronomical occurrence has nothing to do with color. it could be said then that those events that occur once every blue moon are perhaps more common than previously assumed, as blue moon ice cream occurs on a daily basis in towns and cities throughout a handful of states. while this would be an entirely inaccurate and willfully obtuse interpretation of an idiom, one that seems fully intent to take liberty with language and use it only smarmily to make a miniscule and intentionally dishonest point, the present author would also like to point out, quickly and also haphazardly, that both the philosophical problem of deduction, and black swan theory, have statements that use language in comparatively similar ways, such as that of citing a black swan, which, as far back as 2nd century roman poet Juvenal, was considered an impossible occurrence and thus an apt metaphor for something incredibly rare. it was, of course, several centuries later that endemic populations of black swans were found in various regions of australia. it could be said then, that black swans, much like blue moons, are actually poor examples to rely on, and could be replaced with something more viable and legitimately lacking in common occurrence. given that it would require listening to the original populations of a region for a better comparison, which, in the latter case of the black swan, involves listening to residents who happen to be dark skinned and non-christian, it seems safe to assume this will not occur. through it all, nassim taleb, unfortunately, will still make money off of it.

30 is the new 30

sometime many, many years ago, you decided you would not live until age 30. you would not deal with the number, the age, and given your obsession with death and suicide, well, it seemed like, statistically, you weren't going to make it anyways. and if you did, well, that would be the last day. you had it all planned out if it came to that day. you'd finish what you tried to do almost 11 years ago. you would turn 30 and then you would never turn anything again. you never wanted to live long. you never wanted to see more of life than what you had.

you were 29 when you realized you had a change of heart. you suppose it's never to late to change. you are going to see your 30th birthday, and you are going to enjoy it. part of you still doesn't understand how or why it happened. but it did. you have plans, ones that don't involve death or falling or cutting. plans that involve music and kissing and hugging and love. you tear up writing about it, this very second, black letters appearing on a white background on a 21 inch screen. you feel thankful, lucky, like you made it through something. like you won the lottery. your fiancée tells you she is taking the entire day off to be with you. you wonder if you are a burden. a few weeks ago she came home and found you asleep with a knife on the table next to you and a strong dose of xanax running through your veins. she surprises you with coffee and hugs and songs and speeches and you think you could never offer anything like that to anyone, and that she is so much better than you. but she says she loves you, no matter what, that you are always good enough. and then you realize it is not a contest, not a scoreboard, not a 'you do this, I do that' but a 'you love me, i love you' and, well, it all clicks into place. when you turn 30 you will turn 30, and then you will turn 31, and you will keep going until your bones decay and your body breaks down. you hope that day, when you stop turning, when it all comes to an end, is very, very far away.