Some things
I love, from the mind of 25-year-old me
I've realized some things:
I like standing bare legged at the screen door listening to the sound of chirping bugs at night.
I like the feeling of running water trailing down my body, leaving tiny rivers streaming from my collar bone to my ankle. The stream runs wildly, seemingly without course, down my stomach and dips in and out of my belly button before continuing over my thigh and across my knee down to the shower floor.
I love the sound of boiling water in a metal pot: the pockets of air rolling over each other like waves hitting the shore.
I like sitting in the back seat and watching the world outside pass before me. I wonder if - or when - I will visit these places I'm watching scan by.
I like wearing eyeliner. And long sleeves with short shorts.
I like falling asleep to movies I've already seen. And sometimes to ones I haven't.
I like daydreaming: Wondering if I'm living my best life and if I'm not then who I need to meet or what I need to do to make it better.
I like drawing until my hand gives out from exhaustion. It happens so quickly now: a reminder of my limitations in this very new world of seeing everything differently - of seeing everything a little more realistically.
The feeling still hasn't returned, but I started burying my hand in barrels of beans again.
This was written in 2015 after my 2nd hand surgery. I had taken a fall waitressing 2 years prior, severing 3 tendons and the ulnar nerve in my wrist on glass and permanently altering my right hand.