State Street Zephyr

The rain brushed its arms agains my temples when I stuck my head out my window. Mr. wind embraced me in its arms on my solitary drive down the State Street line. Trains ch-ch-chug-chugging down the line. I wish I could close my eyes down the drive.

Infinity

I can't stop listening to the XX . Just close your eyes and listen...

Sometimes music is all I need to make my mood better.

"It would be a pecadillo not to eat your mom's picadillo" A.L.

So I was walking with part of my lovely cohort earlier today, and between the talks and giggles we came across this lovely leaf. I felt like the they were tears, in a way. It was a solitary brown leaf, with water wedged in between the leaf's veins. No other leaf of that kind was in sight.

I really shouldn't be writing right now, so the picture will have to suffice.




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I <3 my peccadillo cohort!!!!! :)

La noche es mi dia

Lately I have been putting writing off, maybe to hide things I shouldn't write on this blog. Then, laughter sets in with great company, and I forget to write of my day's musings.

Laughter. It's the cure for the lowly, for the sick, and for the disheartened.

The other day, I decided to finally (!) start running in my schools track. Although, it perhaps wasn't the best of decisions to run the pitch of night, I liked to see the twinkle of car and bus lights from afar. I wondered what all those people on the bus were going to at such a late hour. Work, home, a shelter? I felt free and happy under the earth's cooler ceiling. I wanted to feel the night's summer blanket envelop me as I ran down the rubber track.

It was a good day.

History Please

Okay, so I am sitting here in my room, with my laptop in front of me, my media player on shuffle, Sammy by my side, and a cool breeze coming through the windows. JSTOR is on my screen and I love reading this stuff. It brings me back to HST 100 when we had to read an article from JSTOR - cool stuff.

I want to read more history, although I really like fiction. My writing also needs to improve. So this summer, part of my to do list includes writing and reading more. Ah, and running. I really want to take hikes around the area, even if I have to go alone, I am going to make this happen during summer. Sometimes I gather my thoughts better when I am alone, there is a certain serenity when one has solitary adventures. Try it, sometime. I've tried those many times, but company is of course merrier.

So if anyone has books they highly recommend for history majors, suggestions are super appreciated =D

Of daisies my heart sings

One can be negative only so much, so of daisies my heart sings to make everything better. It's funny, my mom's daisy pot was full of blooming daisies in the winter, but they're shriveling and dying with the hot sun. They brightened my day on any wintry, gloomy January day.

Clotheslines

Rusty, cream-colored clotheslines were intermittently built around the apartment community. Deer Creek, with its rolling fields of green, beaconed my brother and I to play . All of it was ours - well in our minds. When no one would come out to play, we would hang around the rusty clotheslines. Two cross poles were connected with metal wires. Shirts and jeans of blue, with spots of a brownish hue, hung on those rustic lines.

On Winter days, we would wake up to the blinding sea of snow right outside our window.

Squint a little, they would say, or else you can go blind.

The clothesline poles were too cold to hang from, so we left them alone.

Friendships were formed around those clotheslines. Someday I will find my friend, even with the revolutionary internet, I can't seem to find her. So wires serve as a remembrance of a friendship that ended hastily, without a goodbye.

I watched a documentary in class about South Central LA and I couldn't help but time travel back to those clotheslines and Deer Creek. Even though, it was a tumultuous time, I would greatly like to hang around them once more.