tadpole

so i’m wading by the shore, and everything is fine, tadpoles slipping between my toes. but there are monsters living in these waters too. i know that–even if i’ve never gotten one alone. so i’m sure to be extra-careful on the long walk home.

cause there is a god out there, what if he just doesn’t give a shit? cause millions of people have lived miserable lives, determined by factors completely out of their control. and i don’t think you understand, that this not being my fault may as well be the scariest thing in the whole wide world.

’cause if it’s not my fault, then the pain i feel is out of my control. i’d rather blame myself than be the victim, so here we fucking go.

when i was younger, they told me that the second i held a hammer, the whole world would start to look like a nail to me. they said it like a bad thing. but i’m pulling up the drawbridge, i’m closing the gates, and sleeping with one eye open because the world is out to get me. and i’m doing fine! i’m doing great!

except the crocodiles are snapping at my feet, and the mud flats hold depths i don’t want to know; rain knocking down my spine like buildings of old. and i’ll be all right. paint the prettiest stories on the back of my hand to look at, when i get sad. try to remember what the therapist said, and laugh at her stupidity.

’cause i definitely know better than the people who care about me.

little things

i’m obsessed with gentle love

cardamom palms on my shoulders

and a hand on top of mine

i could eat it up like turkish delight

and write about it all day long

like a little kid, crying into a pillow

some fucked-up brand of self soothing i am too proud to exhume

’cause i’m pissed off and sad

and sometimes, looking in on happy endings from the outside

makes me want to cry

tears of anger and relief

and mostly why why why

i’m obsessed with an infinite love

that stands the test of time

a love where we listen like a symphony

and never stop changing our minds

and we’re eighty years old, and still best friends

so bury us side by side

is that normal?

i don’t really know how this stuff works

so excuse me, if i trip over my words

because my love always tended

to wither in my palms

but i like the little things about you

half-minutes where i just want to believe

that we could stay like this for the rest of eternity

make dinner, and go on a walk

and watch tv

and all this bullshit would be worth it

if i had you, and you had me

and maybe we’d never be each others’ everythings

but you’d be my anchor

and the wind that blows me out to sea

you’d be my lilac spring bloom

and my rose-petal certainty

you’d be soft, and clear like the shore

and i’ll catch you if you catch me


You can interpret this to be about love, but it doesn’t have to be! I feel like we put way too much focus on romantic love, when, like, there are so many other interesting bonds to write about, so I left this piece purposefully ambiguous.

ode to armageddon

so i’m sitting in the corner, scrolling through my phone / and listening to this middle aged man at the hardware store / argue with his wife in whispered tones / about screwdrivers and carpet / and he’s calling her a bitch / but we all know they’ll stay together / steep in the silt of their misery / i don’t think it’s a good sign that i relate to them already / a little bit / ’cause their world is ending / a tylenol fever burrowing through tough skin / and i doubt they’ll notice when the lights cut out / but i will / as i sink into my pillow like surrender / on the nights when i can’t sleep / because maybe they were once in love / maybe they had hopes and dreams / but now they’re sunburnt and old / with a bitter tinge on their lips / so my dear armageddon / take me slowly / kiss my eyelids closed / and i will try not to scream out / as smoke fills my bedroom / and the skyscrapers crumble down / because i don’t think the world needs another tragedy a / life cut short or / product of circumstance / and god, i hope they’re happy / some day far, far away / i hope they split up / and find new love / and he starts a coffeeshop / she moves to the city / i hope all their dreams come true / i hope it’s not too late to change / and grow / and get our shit together / i hope, i hope, i hope


I’ve been thinking about the end of the world a lot of late. I think a lot of people are–maybe it’s yellow car syndrome, where you just see what you’re looking for, but lately it seems like so many people have been putting out songs about the end of the world, or making books and TV shows about the apocalypse. And again, this is almost certainly my spin on things, because perception is really subjective, but they don’t really feel like tragedies anymore. Like the end of the world is something so many of us are starting to accept as a grim possibility, and something we’ll just have to live with. This world with record-breaking heatwaves and oceans on fire and a million other tragedies and injustices. Like most of us are just at a loss for what to do, other than posting about it online and signing petitions. It’s comforting, to romanticize it–play it out in your mind. Honestly, sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me through the day, even if it’s mostly a load of rubbish. (Yes I am most definitely projecting here, what of it.)

I just think it’s interesting, and I tried to capture that in this poem.

Lots of love,

Lorna

2000-and-something // sob story (2)

does it really matter how old i was?

and are we still doing this?

this stupid thing

where i will give you my silly putty heart

and you will weigh its innocence?

***

2000-and-something. i was soft

and guilty

quick breathing

clawing my skin off in the counsellor’s office

’cause it helped me focus, or something

as she told me, told me, told me

that my brain was wired wrong

cyborg girl, can’t be fixed

lazy and reckless and cold

and what was i supposed to do with that? you know?

except in all honesty

i can’t remember what she said

and for all i know, she might have been a perfectly nice person

who was trying her best

but i do know is how it made me feel

like a scratched hard drive

the faulty cog in the machine

who hid under tables

who cried and cried and screamed

but i built up a callous, you see

and i learned a few things that year

don’t cry in the hallways

don’t make a mess

and above all else, just try your best not to feel

’cause then i will be normal

i’ll be happy; i mean honeycomb sweet

i’ll curl my hair

and and wash my face each morning

and if you play the ukulele

i swear i’ll sing along

***

you know what?

maybe the trauma made me better

maybe it smashed my head against the rocks

until poetry bled out; maybe it taught me

to pick my friends carefully

and keep going on

but i was a child

i shouldn’t have had to be strong

so if you’re listening

all the way back from 2000-and-something

i’m sorry

that people hurt you

that you hurt yourself

cause you deserve good things

twirly dresses, bookstore gift cards

play-fights and daydreams

and raspberry hope

i know it’s hard right now, though

i know you trip over your circuits

i know you can’t stay in time

and i’m still working it out

but i do know:

that knife-wounds will soften

and burn marks will fade

and i am trying to be better

every fucking day


Is this becoming a series? Maybe. Probably. I don’t know, I really like this format, and also, writing this piece made me very emotional.

Lots of love,

Lorna

June: The Month in Photography

June 6th

Okay, so I don’t know if I mentioned this, but I’m taking a photography class at my school, and while I was researching for a report for it, I learned about double exposures–where you overlay two pictures over top of each other for this kind of trippy effect where you can really see the subject’s motion. Originally, it was done with film, where you wind back to the place the photo you want to overlay was, and then put something else on top of it, but I do not have a film camera (although I desperately want one), so I had to settle for overlaying this photo over one taken a few seconds after on Canva, to hopefully show motion?

Also, full credits to my friend for taking this while we were at the beach–thank you very much for being my cameraman, this is such a cool photo and I had to include it somewhere.

June 11th

I took a bunch of photos in a meadow of daisies I found the other day, for my photography class, and I really liked how this one turned out! I might post some of the other ones in a separate post, because they ended up being super pretty!

It was so quiet, and peaceful in this meadow, and I actually started to feel comfortable in front of the camera, which is something I’ve never experienced before, and I just had a lot of fun, so I might try and do this again, especially if I can tie it into an assignment.

June 17th

It’s not often I see something purple I can capture in a photo, so when I saw these little flowers, I had to jump on the opportunity. I really love how the light catches this picture, I think it looks so cool.

As I write this, I’m about a day away from finishing tenth grade, and more than anything, I am just so relieved to be able to have more time for work, at long last–both, like, creative work, and also actually-making-money work. I’ll probably take on a few more hours in the summer, and finally be able to work in the mornings, rather than roasting in the afternoon sun, since I’m always booked with school in the mornings. I know that sounds like a boring thing to be excited for, but trust me, when you’ve spent months on end working in the sweltering heat, this is huge.

I’ve been vaguely considering the idea of doing event photography as a job when I’m older–I don’t know, I could see being good at it, and there’s a slightly more guaranteed income there than for something like writing. We’ll see.

July 5th

It’s been disgustingly hot of late–it’s been disgustingly hot all over the place, really, which is… well, climate change for you. The heatwave came right when I was getting all excited for summer, too–before I was reminded that where I live, summer usually requires you to become an indoor hermit who braves the great outdoors only for an evening walk, because it is so gross and hot during normal waking hours. To be fair, there are usually some good months in there–we get to go swimming a lot, which is always nice, and I will admit that being done with school is a massive relief now I’ve gotten used to the new schedule.

There is a reason this post is very late (for those of you who, like, regularly follow this blog–are you out there? I don’t know, I hope you are). Also, a reason there was a huge gap in entries–which I could have fabricated over, but decided not too for the sake of honesty, and also because I didn’t take many pictures during that time period.

Honestly, I’m having a bit of creative block–simultaneously doing very good and very horribly. I’m learning to draw (because I’m not going to die with the storyboards for imaginary animatics in my brain, their full glory lost to humanity forever, goddamnit!) and I’m working on a bunch of song covers that I may or may not post online, depending on how cruel I’m feeling to myself in ten years. I’m sleeping weird hours and drinking lots of water and considering getting rid of this blog every other day. I guess I’m just feeling a little confused, and vulnerable. I’m not as willing to share everything with the world as I used to be.

And that makes me sad–but I think it’s just growing up. It’s healthy to be a little confused. I’ll figure it out eventually.

Love,

Lorna