Because When it's over.. it'll be over

Boo! My computer will not upload the State of the Union. And I missed the Foster Care Walk because I was stuck on the bus.

I think I need to get back to the daily grind, but I am enjoying the ride of putting it off.

I can't wait till I stop cycling from intense anger towards my ex to sadness and nostalgia. It is no fun. I just know that when that stops, the feelings will be gone forever, and I won't want to associate with her ever again. I have never felt this hurt in love. When this is over, it is really over. Our last goodbye will be in a college dorm. Our last real interaction ever. I can feel I'm on the verge. I know myself well enough that I won't engage when this is over. And that makes me sad.

It won't be like Clare... because our relationship wasn't as deep as mine and Em's.

But was it deep? I can't tell if I imagined it all anymore. It feels so distant, yet painful.

MLK Jr. March

I forgot how powerful it was to participate in direct actions in the city.

The most powerful moments of the action yesterday in Oakland were:

• The ability to shut down traffic and talk to people about a cause
• Viewing and being supporting of a young women's grief about the loss of Oscar Grant and her brother. They brought candles and incense to mourn. Yes, they were burning dollar bills with sage for cleansing purposes. 
• A young black boy lead the march with his words and chants. 
• The band singing in solidarity with the crowd. "Which side are you on, friends? Which side are you on?"

There is no doubt that the situation is not about the bad apples, it is about the tree. Racism has been institutionalized and normalized. We need to fight that.. we are fighting that. 

Oakland

Whenever I come back to California, it is like something in my body sings "You are Home, let go, let live."

The people that I have here infuse so much energy into me with their stories. They listen, but they talk. They adventure with me.

Law school draws that energy from me, and I haven't entirely found out how to replace it, but this is where it starts. These people who can inspire me with radical legal thought and social justice. To see people on the street and talk to them about random life experiences and be on a level playing field.

To go to social justice actions on the corner to mourn the loss of QTPOC spaces... even if that means you need to leave your phone in the fridge for fear of government spying.

It is like letting your wings out to air when they have been so closely wound to your body for a prolonged period of time. I love the grit of everyday urban life. Strangers care about you. Starngers want to be your storyteller. I want to be their muse––their recorder.

San Jose

IJUSTBOUGHTMYTICKETTOCOSTARICA and I just wanna run and dance all over the place.

BECAUSE.

SLOTHS

AND COSTA RICA

AND BEACHES

AND MORE SLOTHS!

Do you ever have a feeling that someone you knew so well is suddenly a stranger?

Now that school has started, and I have only easten veggies for a week, I am feeling so much better. My friends and "foster" family really can rally.

And the reason why I was cold, is because I could feel you cheating before you did...

Sometimes, I think that I may have lost the beat that inspired me. Five years ago, I wouldn't have known what I meant if I had that thought.

When I was a child, I had some sense of stability in my life. Stability in my hope that life could improve, and within its core, life was meant to be beautiful. I don't know if I believe that anymore.

I think life is supposed to be hard. People are meant to struggle. People are meant to build themselves back up. But why? When do you lose that hope and the drive.

Teachers and adults would always applaud students for projects that benefitted others. As if, that all disappears when you reach a certain age. You can't find hope or you know better than to be tricked into thinking it exists. I see colleagues and professors and classmates who think like this. Everything is a circle-jerk. Then why are we here? What are we doing this for? If you honestly believed that, wouldn't you just give up and call it a life? Or do you live just to feel the few moments of bliss that happiness can bring?

I'm not sure that I know the answer, but I know that feeling empty isn't it.

I'm knocking on your door today. Answer, please.  Beause I have been standing on your porch for hours. When I got here I felt lost. Lost- I couldn't even feel my legs, and my mind was full of empty thoughts. Can God fix lost? How about confused?

God, I'm knocking. Isn't this your door?