mindmaps

I made my first mindmap in about a year yesterday. It was for a maths class I’m taking. If you’ve been reading here for a while, it should come as no surprise to you that I am very bad at maths. If you are a new reader, let me spell it out for you:

I am terrible at mathematics. I am so bad at maths that every time I finish a problem, there is a mini earthquake in the classroom I’m in and a voice from the depths of the earth that bellows, “HER ANSWER IS WRONG. AGAIN.” I do so dismally in maths that the one time I finished my homework for this class early and submitted it, I got such a low grade that my professor chose not to count it. I am horrific at crunching or crushing or chewing or chomping numbers. I cannot numbers. I can’t maths.

Right. Now that that’s been made clear that I am bad at maths, I’ve forgotten what else I wanted to say and why I’ve titled this post “mindmaps”. Do excuse my haphazard writing and website and self. I’m a mess, but you knew that. If you didn’t – don’t worry, I won’t give you a paragraph of imagery – I am a mess, and now you know.

If there was a mindmap of me, it’d probably look like this:

mess

I like how mindmaps are really just a big mess that has a purpose, so it’s not so messy anymore. I like the idea of myself as a mindmap. Maybe there’s something to show for it; something more than a failed test or a mess of a girl in love with every bassist from any New Brunswick alt/punk/rock band. Maybe.

love and light,
shalom xo

mercury | atlas

credit:  nasa / https://www.nasa.gov

atlas is a series based on the planet songs off of sleeping at last’s atlas: year one.
this is mercury: a conversation with the self about progress & control. 


I don’t know what’ll be the catalyst. I don’t know what will make me feel different, what will undo the mass of doing that I have done within myself, what will change anything at all. I know that it must be something.

I am alone, and I am aware. As hard and as far as I run, I can’t seem to leave this bridge I’ve found myself on.  It’s as if knowing what I’ve done to get here is enough to keep me here. There is somewhere I should go, but here is enough. This is enough.

The control I have to stay here is enough. It is worth the loneliness and the atrophy, it is worth the way I fall over my words, it is worth the subjective truth I’ve created. It is worth the dissonance. I am dissonance.

As wide as I open my eyes – as wide as I try to – I know that there’s something else. There must be more, there must be something bigger, there must be some reason, some worth, some thing. Any thing. Anything. There must be more to me and to this loneliness.

I know that I know that you see me; desperate, if nothing else.

I am here. You are somewhere, but until I know what key to enter on, until I become aware of what I am or what this is, I’ll go anywhere you want me.

I’ll go anywhere you want me.