“I didn’t do much for the past few days, but you know what I did do, this morning I saved a caterpillar and put it back in the woods where it belongs. And that put the biggest smile on my face.”

“You know, the thing about caterpillars and transformation is – before you turn into the butterfly, you have to be goo. Literal goo. You have to go into the chrysalis for a while.

And I’m just going to tell myself today, right now you have to be okay with being goo.”


Guest Poem – Like Say Steve or Something

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I received a guest poem through my contact form. This is why I love New Yorkers:

Name: like say steve or something
Comment: Around it goes. Falls back again

Always to the same spot. We walk opposite to sides unmet.

Where we meet in between
Still ends don’t meet

I see you there.

We are incomplete.

Where to build a bridge across
From how do I discover.

Maybe if I walk all the way back

Will I find you on the other side again?

Around in circles
Did I miss on the way back?

Well, I guess not completely in circles

For each time I get to the end
You are still on the other side.


From how do I build a bridge to make ends meet?

Around we go, fall back again
Always to the same spot

We walk opposite to sides unmet

I asked Siri the title of your blog, I read like half a poem and wanted to write my own,


20 something new yorker

Any Excuse

I’ll take any excuse to love you

So explain to me that the sky isn’t blue

That this pain I’m feeling isn’t real

Tell me that people don’t really have two hands Tell me we’ll live forever

even though I know someday we all have to go

I’ll take any excuse to love you

Any excuse to believe that this might somehow work Tell me that when you paused

when I asked if you thought we’d be together always

That you really meant yes

Frida Kahlo on Strangeness

“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me, too.

Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.” – Frida Kahlo


What is it like to be with you when the whole world is asleep?

I’d love to know the taste of your lips at midnight

sweeter than sunrise, softer than sunshine against my windowpane at dusk.

what is it like to kiss your face when the rest of the world closes its eyes?

I’d venture to say it feels like the broadest luck

quite impossible, quite unimagineable, but innumerably

inexplicably real.

your breath on my tongue

your eyelashes in my dreams but they flutter gently on my face

so real, too true, but quite still so unimagineably similar

to when stars collide.