RealTalk Poetry • White Girl Hungover

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” Maybe your friends wouldn’t have to cut you off. They wouldn’t hold your wallet hostage. Promising you a drink on every hour.”

You participate in the initial cheers.

Clanking the brim of your red plastic cup against their glasses. You take a picture of the cluster of arms. FILTER: Velcinia. CAPTION: “The night has begun!”

But now – it’s the morning after.

If you could go back, put color on the night, be granted a do-over, go home one-hour earlier, or take one drink back – then maybe you would do things differently.

Maybe you wouldn’t perform your version of the ‘Dougie’ while taking occupancy center stage. Maybe your friends wouldn’t have to cut you off. They wouldn’t hold your wallet hostage. Promising you a drink on every hour.

Maybe you wouldn’t have initiated small talk.

Spending 30-minutes convincing a male by the bar that you’re “dehydrated”. You wouldn’t make contact with the seat of the only unclogged toilet, trying desperately to catch your balance between the cold metal stalls.

Maybe you wouldn’t put on a grin while dodging security and rehearsing your “I just can’t walk in these heels”, cry. You wouldn’t have embraced the satisfaction of screaming “CHUG” in a stranger’s face or challenging a group of high-tolerance frat boys to a Jäger bomb shot battle.

Maybe you wouldn’t have slumbered with a garbage can wrapped within your arms.

A Tylenol and water bottle wouldn’t be bedside, waiting to mask your bad decisions. Leaves wouldn’t cover your body. Evidence of something your can barely recall.

Maybe you wouldn’t be tiptoeing around the sleeping bodies on the ground.

You wouldn’t have a sticky mess beneath your feet or the smell of stale beer teasing your queasy stomach. You wouldn’t be lecturing yourself about your decisions, asking your Uber driver to chime in, on the ride home.

You wouldn’t be white girl hungover.


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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Love & Lust • Heartbreak Is An Encore

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“Heartbreak is the chilling feeling that you’re doing everything wrong. That this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.”

Heartbreak is a powerful diagnosis.

It’s the sorrow of a lonely bird. The crumbling of an expired cake. The nostalgia of a Top 40 song, overplaying itself on the radio. Heartbreak is the chilling feeling that you’re doing everything wrong. That this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.

It’s the disbelief, the regret, the wish for one more chance.

Heartbreak is an encore. It’s a broken record, refusing to let the song end. It’s the honesty of a photograph, unable to change with the people in it.

But, how many times can you let the same person defeat you? You sacrifice our self-worth for the familiar because you settle – and you accept.

Sometimes they’ll look your way, smirking as if deprived of your body. They’ll send you a text every few months, slipping in a childish emoticon. They’ll press their shoulder against yours at the bar, reminding you of their mere existence. And not sometimes, but always, do you read too much into these things.

And so, you continue to look their way.

You hope to connect one last time. You rehearse your response to their texts – whipping your phone in critique when your words simply won’t flow.

You disregard the eyes of affection,

the real love that comes up,

the ones who can rewrite your pain.

They’re begging for your time and attention like you’re begging for someone else’s’.


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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Mental Health • Depression Is Happiness

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“Depression is not robotic. You can still express a genuine smile; you jut may cherish it more.”

Depression changes more than who you are. It changes the people around you.

Your supportive family panics.

They ask you to comfort their racing minds. They want to hear you say you’re fine and everything’s back to normal – even if they know it’s not.

Your friends don’t know you anymore.

They sigh when you pass on a night of drinking and like everyone else, they just want to pat you on the back and tell you it will blow over.

Your job is slipping from your control.

You can’t devote your hectic mind to 8 hours of concentration a day. You can’t accumulate enough vacation hours to sacrifice when the illness numbs your body and your bed holds you hostage.

You live your days in frustration and judgment.

You live misunderstood. And the days you don’t feel those feelings. The days your mind doesn’t strangle you – are the days you’re a shell. You don’t feel anything at all.

Depression is the inability to be who you are.

You want to be the one with the kind heart.

You want people to watch as you achieve big things and concur life flawlessly.

You want to wear a permanent smile and see the good in people’s eyes – not pity. It sounds so easy. Anyone could be happy if they let themselves. But it’s not that easy, and it takes losing simple happiness to understand it.

Depression is not suicidal.

It doesn’t paint purple bags beneath your eyes or leave your wrists scared with self-loath. There’s no rain cloud over your head or a mandatory all-black dress code. You don’t spend your days choking on tears with makeup stained cheeks.

Depression isn’t an Instagram caption, proclaiming sadness about a broken heel and it isn’t an opportunity to incorporate self-pity into casual conversation. Depression isn’t robotic. You can still express a genuine smile; you just may cherish it more.

Depression shows you the dark to remind you there’s light.

It knocks you down so you can learn how to stand. It opens your mind so you can survive the closed world and it makes you strong so you forget you were weak.

Depression is pushing against the wind that keeps pushing back. Its resistance hitting you cold in the face.

It’s reading your life on paper, the words resemble a script, telling the story of a character in a desirable life. It’s sitting by the water, a Caribbean drink in hand while your mood still sings like a twisted Beetles song. It’s as agonizing as a broken arm, threatening to restrict day-to-day movements.

Depression is happiness.

It’s not sadness. It’s intelligence. It’s wanting more from life. It’s wanting more from yourself. It’s wanting what you don’t have. It’s wanting what you don’t yet know.


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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Understanding Life • Don’t You Miss The Way Things Were?

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“Don’t you miss the way your camera refused to let you live behind the lens? A simple snap is no longer enough.”

There’s no denying the fast changing world we live in.

Social Media and technology have (and continue) to take over our lives and is quickly destroying the little things as it grows. We’re now nostalgic for the things that are only a memory. The simplicity we once took for granted.

Don’t you miss the way your camera refused to let you live behind the lens?

A simple snap is no longer enough. You now need angles, poses, props, and unnatural moments. Consider the life that’s getting lost between reality and your phone screen.

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Don’t you miss wandering through the high shelves at Blockbuster?

Friday night’s spent glancing at movie-after-movie.

You shamelessly wore your sweatpants and flip flops while clutching your freshly-picked-up-food. We’ve now lost adventure to convenience and the sound of laughter to the hollow clicks of our remotes.

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Don’t you miss the late-night-echo of your computer starting up?

You turned on the computer and cringed as the start up sound echoed through the house. Your bed was empty. Your heart was racing. You couldn’t check your favorite sites from your phone. You had to sneak out of bed (and back in) within hours.

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Don’t you miss when you could escape the online world?

And the people in it. You could leave the chaos outside. You could leave the drama, the bullying, and the gossip, as words behind a computer screen.

Text messages have now become haunting. They now leave us unable to run without the promise of being chased.

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Don’t you miss the first scribble in a brand, new, Agenda?

Fresh sheets waiting to be personalized.

Marked with doodles from class boredom. Hearts filled with crushes. Personalized script with weekend plans. Pages ripped out to pass notes to friends.

Simple.

Don’t you miss the way things were?


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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