goosebumps

you trace your fingers down the lines of old scars and long-held grudges, because i guess paranoia always did die hard. count them out quietly in your fingers, but i guess i can’t judge you too harshly, because i know i’ll be doing the same with yours. it’s so fucking awful. i know, i know, i know.

and some days, i’m a hopeless romantic, but most of the time i’m the most cynical person you’ve ever met. and i can’t be your princess, with her smiles and sunbeams and starlight filtering through her hair. a whole universe inside just one person. and i guess that’s all well and good in theory, but in practice, i don’t have a clue.

’cause i’m young, and naive, and inexperienced at most things. and it’s equal parts joy and torture, remaking myself each september. trying on different costumes in the hopes that maybe someday, i’ll find one that fits.

and i’m still learning silence from the burnt-out trees, raised up to worship the pain coursing through my bloodstream, to search day after day for its mythic beauty, only to realize, eleven years old, that maybe that wasn’t the best thing to do. but i still find myself following its footprints, on the bad days.

staying up too late on purpose, and letting my chapped lips start to burn. because if i’m just miserable for long enough, won’t you love me all the more? won’t you raise me up, and salute me, mount me like a trophy on your wall? would you tell me you’re proud of me, when i’ve done nothing at all?

would you plug the holes in my heart with drywall, paint me magenta and sky blue? would you run away with me one afternoon, even if it’s only in our dreams, and build me a cityscape of promises we’ll try our best to keep, but who knows?

because people change. and people mess up. but right now, i mean it, and maybe that’s enough.

how to be okay

  1. i give up, a little bit. even as i fight my own mind to the death. but even so, i still can’t help painting myself a superhero, or at the very least an overenthusiastic protagonist.
  2. so why don’t you sing yourself a song as you drift off to sleep? get stacks of books from the library, and spend afternoons the way you used to: curled up with a book on a freshly made bed. and for the first time in my life, i’m not completely exhausted. just a little bit drained after a long day, i guess.
  3. and let yourself admit, that you don’t know. and you’re still so fucking confused. take a deep breath, and allow it to wash over you. do not try to hold it at a distance. it’s a shitty situation, and you’re allowed to be mad, but you can’t spend forever simmering in bitterness.
  4. remind yourself every morning in the mirror as you get dressed, that life is not black or white, and everything exists in balance. and you’re probably gonna spend the next ten years trying to gently etch those words in your brain, work out kinks and heal old scars. and it’s dirty, wretched work for no pay. the hours suck, and you’re not much good at it. but for some reason, you do it anyway.
  5. be angry. scream into the pillow, write furious emails to all the people who ever hurt you, don’t accept anything less than coupons and cheap flowers in lieu. wish you could take out a warranty on your own brain, and send it back to the factory for a full reset. but, like, not actually, that’d be horrifying, don’t do that.
  6. try and put down your phone, for a little while at least. you don’t have to think about the bad things, about your faults and mistakes, about the person you used to be in eighth grade, and how she will forever be immortalized in other people’s brains. you don’t have to defend yourself, at least not today.
  7. put on your softest sweater, and go on a walk in the woods. realize, as you pick a few flowers and put them in your pockets, that you don’t feel totally exhausted. and you hate your body just a little bit less than you did yesterday. and you’re shaky, and scared, and also kind of… okay.
  8. hold it like an stained glass ornament, cupped in your palms. stare at it in the mirror, and try not to hate it when your fingers shake. they’re trying their best to hold the world together. give them a fucking break.

So, I haven’t reread over them in ages and don’t plan to, because rereading old writing makes me cringe–but I wrote these poems that were like “how to xyz a feeling” (can’t remember the exact title, but they’re on the blog somewhere, please god don’t go back and read them, I’m sure they’re very embarrasing). So this was my little ode to that, since I remember they were in list form as well. I’ve been doing really good of late, weirdly–like, actually okay? Not perfect, I still have a lot going on, and I don’t know how long it’ll last, but right now I don’t feel like dying, so I’m gonna take that as an accomplishment.

Lots of love,

Lorna

May: The Month in Photography

May 8th


So, it’s been a really exhausting day, not gonna lie. I went to work after a not-great night of sleep, and got back at twelve. Sometimes, after I’m done working, I can just jump right onto my next task with maybe five minutes to get changed… and sometimes I’m so wiped out I can’t form coherent thoughts for three hours. Today has been the latter. It feels like all I can do is worry about things I can’t control.

Like, I have this existential crisis every few months or so about if I should go to university or not–if I have a choice, if my feelings are particularly relevant to this decision. I spin around and around on my little mental toilet bowl, knowing perfectly well this isn’t going to go anywhere.

I’ve just been so hard on myself of late. I’m gonna try and work on that, and hopefully go to bed early tonight.

May 16th


So, I did not in fact, go to bed early. And now it’s the week after, and I feel like I could just fall asleep at my desk right now, except the moment I lie down in bed, all that exhaustion disappears, and I have to lie awake for a while.

I’ve got a big day tomorrow–school, and then a table read for the audio drama I’m working on. But weirdly, I don’t feel too nervous? That might just be the sleep deprivation.

It’s really cheesy, but I’ve been thinking a lot about something a teacher told me a while ago–you have to enjoy the process, because otherwise, what’s the point? I’ve always been a really goal-oriented kind of person, and I really don’t mean that in the positive way. My whole life is structured in my head into milestones and check-boxe. I’ve been trying to go slower, of late. Figure out what the hell that even means.

May 19th


I’m so bad at appreciating what I’ve got.

When things are quiet, and I’ve got nothing better to do, I fantasize about being this super busy famous writer–having deadlines, a management team, an editor, people whose whole job is to determine my success. A platform–like, a real one, and maybe someone would recognize me at a coffeeshop once, I don’t know. Healing people in some small way with a poem, or a story, and convincing people like me it will get better.

But when things actually happen in my life, I immediately switch to fantasizing about just having a normal life. Coming home from work and watching TV and knowing that was it–I was done, no stories to write or blog posts to edit or a thousand balls to carefully juggle.

The grass is always greener on the other side. I feel like that would be a good poem.

May 22nd


So, exciting news: I booked my vaccine appointment! I’m gonna get the first shot on May 30th, and I’m just so relieved to finally feel a bit safer.

I’m historically not the best with vaccines. I just don’t like strangers touching me, and especially when they’re not only touching me but stabbing me with a needle, it just usually sends me into at least a minor panic attack.

Aaanyway, I will be okay, it’s just not the most pleasant experience.

May 25th


So, exciting news, I guess: I auditioned for a podcast, and I’m gonna audition for two more tomorrow. I play one of the characters in We Are Here, which I just decided to take on for the hell of it, but turns out, I really like it? Like, it seriously makes me so happy? And even if nothing comes of it, I’m really glad I’ve figured that out about myself and wanted to share that with the universe today. So, yeah, that’s the life update I guess.

June 1st


Okay, technically I’m writing this in June now–because it’s been a not-great two days, and side effects are a bitch, but: I got vaccinated! On the 30th! And… it wasn’t an entirely awful experience? Which is weird, because I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a shot without panicking. But the lady at the vaccine clinic was so nice, and she made me feel really at ease, and in conclusion I owe her my firstborn child.

I felt really weird afterward–like the tail end of a cold, with fun add-ins of dizziness, what felt like a fever, being really sore everywhere and not being able to move your arm. I’m fine now, though.

It feels like I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s still a little far off, but I also can see that we are getting there. Which is a feeling I’ve pretty much spent the last year waiting for.

(Editing Lorna sliding in here to say that obviously, getting vaccinated is a huge privilege, and unfortunately not something everyone has access to! I’m insanely lucky to be able to get the shot at all. Okay, now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.)

I just can’t wait for the world to get back to normal. I’ll probably still be kinda miserable, but maybe a little bit less than usual. I don’t know.

Lots of love,

Lorna

every now and then

i want you to hold me like a glass-blown ornament

ever-so-gently. tell me about your day at work,

and try not to laugh too hard when i mess up a chord

on my guitar. kiss my forehead, and sing me to sleep

like a little kid. maybe text me you miss me,

every now and then. i want you to want me,

no more and no less than i want you.

it doesn’t have to be perfect. or particularly romantic, if you

don’t want it to. but maybe i’ll make you laugh,

every now and then, if you promise to soothe my fears

before taking a leap off the edge

even if you can’t come with me

and maybe this time, love could be good, and kind

and pretty

we could rent a cabin in the woods

and run away from our utopian city.


Ok, so this is super experimental because normally I don’t like this format, but in this case, I thought it worked super well! I also am not in a relationship and have no desire to be, so this felt super weird to write, because I’m generally really cynical about the whole romance thing and don’t really want to date anyone right now, and I feel like such a cliche teenager even talking about this, and I’m getting all awkward, but yeah. I really wanna try and branch out, writing more narrative poems or things a bit more removed from my personal life, so we’ll see how it goes!

Lots of love,

Lorna

romanticize

sometimes i think i’ve spent my whole life mastering the art of silence. learning how to shut my mouth, and fold up other people’s feelings like t-shirts, warm and fresh out of the dryer, and sort them out on my bed. i like to think i’m pretty good at it. so i play therapist. i listen, and i hold your feelings like bathwater, watching them drip-drop onto the floor.

i’m sorry i can’t save you. i’m sorry it sucks, and you’re all alone, and everything’s just a little bit fucked up right now. there’s no way to romanticize that, i think. no soundtrack to make it better. it just kinda sucks, you know? and you’ve got every right to be pissed off about it.

but you can’t be pissed off about it. because being pissed off about it means accepting it wasn’t your fault, and accepting it wasn’t your fault means it’s out of your control. so stand by and watch, as the monsters under the bed go in for the kill. there’s only so much anger one body can hold, and it eats you up inside. i know, i know, i know.

i remember that day, we went to the lake last summer, and walked on gravel with bare feet. closed our eyes, let the summer heat turn everything to a dizzy blur. i remember watching the people down below, and the ripples in the water. that feels like a century ago.

but i still don’t know how to tell my friends i love them, or let anyone hold me close. i haven’t really had a lot of practise, you know? so i’m sorry if i see a church in your eyes, and the words come out all wrong sometimes.

but for now, we will linger, in that comfortable silence, right before dawn, when the light hits the trees, and i’ll rip off bits of moss from the ground, and think that this is what family feels like. take a picture of this moment in my mind: quiet, and holy, in its own right.