#185: Forever

gray and black dress pins

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Forever. Sometimes, we get lucky and are able to let the meaning of the word “forever” enter our lives. I’m an absurdly lucky and fortunate person, able to live a life that’s blessed with people I know will always be there for me, like Alex. As I’ve said in the past, I don’t know where I would be without her. Certain things like this connection we have are bound to last as long as possible. When we talk about forever, we talk about Angus, we talk about our lease and the apartment, we talk about getting married and living our lives like this, the way they’ve been lived, forever. We know what it’s like to be alone, especially for long periods of time and when we need someone around us the most. I think that’s partially what fuels our collective need for long-term commitment, because nothing is more reassuring and uplifting in the moment than hearing that the person who makes your life positive and radiant has no plans of leaving any time soon. Having been alone for such a long time, literally and figuratively, sucks.

I mean, it also helps that Alex is a great person who lifts me up when I’m feeling down, and who is beautiful and smart and courageous and wonderful. She is an inspiration for me to look up to, and she takes care of so much around the apartment. I wouldn’t be able to survive in this crazy world without her, at this point. I know that much is certain. It’s one of the many reasons I’m so grateful to be with her.

You know, sometimes people talk about what it means to be in a relationship that lasts, and so far we’ve lasted strong for about 27 months. I’d say I know a thing or two about what it means to have someone’s back while they have yours. And it feels great.


#175: The Grocery Store

assorted color box lot on rack

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Today, I’m going to talk about one of my favorite grocery stores in the world, and perhaps one of the best and most consistently good spots in Stamford in general.

When Alex and I first started exploring the Boston-Quincy area a few years ago, one of the first places we went to was a Trader Joe’s, about 20 minutes away from her apartment. You had to cross a long bridge to get there, and the parking lot was vast and open, unlike the lot for Stamford’s Trader Joe’s store. There also wasn’t usually a line to get in. On the other hand, though, there wasn’t a Robek’s next door to this one. We would pick up turkey bacon and ghost pepper chips and dried mango slices to take home with us, and we started to expect those things like they were normal, everyday items. Even now, when we go to Trader Joe’s in Stamford, we still pick up the same items that we did when we were in Boston, except for the mango slices. We don’t eat those any more, at least not as much. Nowadays, we make occasional trips to Trader Joe’s to pick up whatever items we missed from Fairway. Trader Joe’s has the best name-brand items around, so it’s worth shopping there just to pick up the stuff you wish they had elsewhere.

Sometimes, small things like that stick with you, and the small things begin to resemble larger ideas. I remember when my grandma, sister, and I spent a week in California with our extended family, and during a grocery trip to Trader Joe’s, they bought me a buffalo chicken wrap. I ate it cold. Their house didn’t have much in terms of good food, so I was desperately hungry for something to sink my teeth into.

#77: The Anniversary

red and black flowers

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Two years. Two full years. Wow.

Think about something you’ve done for two years straight. No interruptions. Does anything fit the bill? Is it tough to think of an idea?

I hope to, one day, have written daily blogs for two years straight. Reaching the illustrious #728 would be a great achievement to tout, though I’ll need to work hard in generating new ideas to write about! I feel sometimes that I run out of ideas from doing basic things around the house, because it gets so repetitive, but one day I’ll reach #728, and it will be glorious.

But that’s not the topic of today’s blog post. Today is about a different kind of anniversary. Two years to the day, I messaged a certain person after we matched on a mutual dating app called CoffeeMeetsBagel. Two days later, we met at the Starbucks on Dixwell Avenue in Hamden and the rest has been history. Whether it’s going to the grocery store, to Target, or to the mall together, there’s no one else I’d rather run around through life with. Whether it’s taking a short weekend vacation to Providence, journeying up for five hours to Syracuse, or moving into a new apartment together in Stamford, there’s no one else I’d rather travel and experience the world with. Suffice to say, this person has had an incredible impact on my life, and these past two years have allowed me to transition into being an adult more than ever before. I wouldn’t have made as much progress as I have, both mentally and personally, without this person’s helping hand leading the way. Being in a long-term relationship is like having an eternal companion to go on trips and errands with. It’s never being bored, always having company when you need it. You’re never alone, even when you are physically alone. The guiding spirit of your partner travels with you and accompanies your journey. When you’re stressed, your partner’s words remind you of what it’s like to be relieved and refreshed. When you’re anxious, your partner is there for a comforting, warming hug.

My partner is brilliant, thoughtful, loving, sympathetic, charming, witty, pleasant, silly, adorable, likable, eager, and kind in all ways. They are considerate, even when they don’t think they are, even when they worry about it. They have changed my life more than they will ever be able to fully comprehend. It’s shocking to look back two years ago at where I was, in comparison to now; what I know and don’t know, where I was and what that meant for me. Every day I’m grateful to have met this person, grateful that our paths crossed so coincidentally and then stuck together like inseparable glue afterwards. It’s been a life-saving miracle ever since.


Remember when we used to be
Together, walking somewhere all-right
Alongside, reading something decent
The days, when we wrote shitty stories
The hours, when we had nothing to do
The minutes, when we smiled on end
In a blink, it’s all gone
Remember when we would relax
In your room, reveling in mediocrity
By the canal, sinking into the sand
I like to think, it’s because
We wanted to leave reality
Side by side
Just wait
Because it’s coming again,
The emotion, the animosity
Brewing in the cauldron
In your basement, the love potions,
The hate potions, and the lame ones
Give me a chance to
Fix the crack under your skin
Remember when the days passed quickly
And we forgot to write everyday,
Because life zoomed by, in an instant
I wish we could return
To the recent past
Forget the present; it’s not your birthday
Remember how you used to love it
Just be patient
I think we can make this better

Flower in the shade

Today is the day when you fall back in
And the atmosphere calls us home;
Your dreams are so grand and homely
But release your head from the stars
You’re lost in the gravity of
Black-holes, the guilty life-suckers,
The dark moons that command the sea.
So run now from their push and call,
And seek a skyward destiny;
The world is full of song and dance
A lifeless home to circumstance
And we can cut down all the trees
In a swing of the axe, but you’d
Still be a flower in the shade.


Young men are driven by desire
Seeking not justice, but self-
Fulfillment, and Satisfaction.
In walks an exceptionally rich 
Young man, master of an estate
He was delivered by-will,
A mere twenty years of age,
Dreams of money, and a girl.
The lost woman of his dreams
A zombie by any other name,
Wanders into his land, slowly, and
Appears before him outside his home.
Silence corrodes the somber scene
Minutes pass in the fog
A soft mist envelops the ground.
Lifeless stares from zombie and human
A mixed emotional moment for one
A late-night snack for another
Man pleads with zombie for reconciliation,
His heart torn and unsure;
Zombie approaches slowly, 
Stepping on a wallet, a mirror.
A breaking of glass startles the
Native human, owner of the lot,
He shoos the young flesh-eater
As she tears his face off and 
Swallows his brains in a gulp
In his final thoughts he’s satisfied,
The house left to deteriorate alone.
Zombie dream-girl discriminates not by
Sex, orientation, economic distinction
Everything’s equally tolerated and despised in zombie-mind,
Money, war, materials
Only the primal call of food, sustenance matters;
We should all be zombies,
Lifeless flesh-shells, lacking reason.
If we aren’t already by the time I read this.

Planets of Blue

When I’m sad at night,
When I’m not feeling alright,
          Lights change great green to
Blue, and
Yellow sunbeams collapse on me
          And then this life becomes so much
Think think-around think-through
Think think thinking of you
Sometimes, all right.
          Sometimes, all night.
          (That alternate universe)
Better times coming downtown
Back to the start, first round
Lights faces shining singing
Lingering in my mind like the greasy
After-taste of
          Food, yuck
Fruit on the tree of Eden, midnight
          Godly sorrow
The kind
          Hercules would know
Late-time speeding seconds.
          Stops short of reality
Galaxy sighting out the window
At night there’s planets full of blue
And you.


They say every person needs a partner

Every life needs another;

To seek, embrace, complete it.

But I don’t buy into that gypsy philosophy,

Practiced by fools and wayward spirits.

Heart’s weren’t made in a lock-and-key fashion,

Never have I noticed my heart missing

A second half, atrium and ventricle absent.

Love has never soothed my soul’s worries,

Nor has it fixed anything troubling going on.

It’s only brought more worries, more trouble

And more anguish and foolishness.

Synchronicity is overrated because love,

Love makes no sense…

But maybe it doesn’t have to.




Sleep is difficult when the lights are on

And the sun shows its face in the window.

But it’s 5am and the birds chirp loudly

When they first awake to call to their kin.

I’ve been up all night writing a draft

Of a note of an essay to someone,

Who won’t ever see it, not if I have a say.

I can’t rest when my mind reels back

From the roller-coaster of writing again

To an unknown soldier person carefully;

It starts like all notes do, with one word

Carefully, meticulously chosen: “Dear.”


highway superstar


Time tends to quicken when you least expect it to,
Like a car rushing on the highway, agile yet interruptive,
When an SUV crosses into your lane and you yell expletives
Harsh words your parents told you never to say,
But that was a long time ago, before you learned how to drive
Amidst the horns and muffled engines you feel strangely
Attracted to this speedy SUV and its uniqueness.
You kick the sedan into ignition and attempt to catch up,
Hoping to match the damn SUV’s path at the speed of light,
And the compact steel of the sedan sheds away gradually
From the trunk, the wind-shield wipers, the glass windows
With the more weight you lay on the gas pedal,
And if the whole sedan deteriorates and collapses
Under the pressure of gravity you’d be blissfully clueless.
In that wonderful moment time is rapidly short, and lags.
You cannot catch the uncatchable when
It’s hurling naturally at light speed and you’re
Struggling to reach 85 on the speedometer.
It’s difficult finding a silvery SUV during rush hour
Especially when it seems everyday is a constant hour of rushing
And traveling in fifty directions for the same silvery SUV
You saw yesterday, the day before, a week ago, last month,
That’s probably cut off many other sedans along its path
As it was passing you by happenstance on its way to work
Or to meet a special someone who never knew you existed.