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What am I supposed to be thinking about when someone says “Never Forget?” 

The horrible images I saw from classroom televisions on a cool Tuesday in the fall?

The smoke and the bodies falling and the people covered in toxic debris and the number of missing and the stories of people rushing toward the buildings to help? 

Impossible to forget – and embarrassing that we’d need some hashtaggable phrase to help us out. 

When the combination of the numbers 9 and 11 appear anywhere, what do you remember? 

What we actually need help remembering:

We were told who our common enemy should be so we could make more sense of a tragedy, 

We’re still tied up in an unlawful invasion of Iraq,

We torture prisoners, 

We have veterans coming home and killing themselves every day,

We vilify and starve and bomb and kill people who just want to be happy, don’t want to suffer,

We don’t protest enough. 
#NeverForget that we continue to create tragedies around the world to distract us from the pain of our own tragedy. 

#NeverForget that we still use the fear we have cultivated to scare ourselves into thinking war is a necessary part of life. 

#NeverForget that we have put into place the conditions required to make others hate us. 

#NeverForget that we are just as bad and often worse than our “enemies.” 

#NeverForget that we could stop it if we really wanted.

at my best:

i am peaceful, wide-eyed, finding myself in the right place at the right time, playing outdoors, encouraging and excited about others’ achievements, dancing and writing and free to create

at my worst:

i am insecure, constantly seeking reassurance, comparing myself to everyone and always ending up at the bottom, bored and stagnant, stuck in other people’s rules and expectations, paralyzed by fear

I might throw it all out there and walk away, heels clicking on the shitty fake-wood floor.

There are too many broken copiers and not enough forests in the vicinity of my day-to-day, 

stuck seated and somehow still sweaty and wishing my bank account didn’t tie me to office furniture.

The bunny that hopped toward me in the parking lot today, shiny black eye making contact with my shiny blue one – what did he want anyway, other than to tell me to get the fuck out of here?

When all is said and done, when I leave late and hop on the train and then get home and check my email for the 113th time today, I’ve missed watching my mint plant growing taller in the summer sun.

birthday 29!

on the day that marked me being alive for 29 years
i woke up 3 minutes before my alarm
the flowers i bought yesterday looked beautiful
the sweater i wore is one of my favorites
i made a really great egg scramble for breakfast
i was out the door right on time
the drive to work wasn’t bad at all
i had a seat on the metro and read my new book
i got a free birthday starbucks drink
i saw a cute beagle-y dog
it was raining exactly the right amount
work kept me busy and wasn’t too stupid
my coworkers wished me a happy birthday
a lot of friends and family texted and wrote on my facebook wall
i bought tickets to a play full of people i love
more time to read on the train
i picked up sushi for dinner – it was made in 6 minutes!
i saw a bluejay fly by
i opened a card from aunt pat, and it had ten dollars inside
i made weekend exercise plans with my work bff
i baked a confetti cake that i then devoured
my ukulele asked for a tuning, so we played some songs together
i showered without shaving my legs
i applied a temporary tattoo to my shoulder that tells me carpe futurum
i pulled back my neatly made covers and slid under them
I watched an episode of grace and frankie
i set my alarm for the morning
i sunk into bed and slept

As fall begins

Muscle relaxants made of grief
Hot tea brought by a Scotsman
Old college sweatshirts and ibuprofen

There’s no way to tell where the fever ends and the cells of your skin begin

on a monday morning
when the big boss brings in coffee cake and mimosas
to calm the rising angst in the office
as the annual conference countdown begins,
and when your supervisor adds 11 things
to your list
and most of those things
are drafting email reminders
(you definitely went to college
to do fulfilling work like this),
and when your shin splints
keep you from the only thing
that was making you sane, temporarily,
and when you’ll be working for 11 days
without one day off and only
6.5 hours of overtime somehow,
and when your stomach constantly
hurts because you drink too much
terrible coffee and you worry all the time,
and when your boyfriend tells you
you’re beautiful but you can’t┬ábelieve
him because you actually do
look like shit,
and when you scratch and kick
and thrash and moan in your sleep,
and when you’re fucking up
just as much as everyone else

you do have that mimosa
and you do have all the online job search engines
and you do have a mom who will listen to all your complaining and crying on the phone
and you do have a boyfriend who thinks you’re beautiful even after you’ve been sweating
and you do have a comfy bed to dive into when the day is done
and you do have a pen and a notebook
and you do have peach pie ingredients at home
and you do have a ukulele that takes just a few seconds to tune
and you do have the extra oomph to try again and then again

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When I’m on the metro in the morning and the evening
When the red line is delayed for the 8th time in two weeks
When I have another hour and a half to go
Your words accompany me, and I sit and wait with ease