Mr. Brown, You've Disappointed Me Once Again

He said his time was unspent, his promises un-sung.  He told me he was waiting for the winds to change, to lift his trodden feet off the dirt and carry him away to a different state.  Someplace where the street corners are crooked and the gutters are empty.  He wanted a new building to look at every day on his way to get his morning coffee.  He wanted less alcohol and his mom to stop calling him.  He said all her phone calls ended the same: a broken plate and a mark on his forehead.

He said that he saves $30 from each of his pay checks, but he doesn't know what for.  He just saves it.  

He said he loves Tennessee in the winter.  

He said that he would call me when he figures out how to stop seeing rain everywhere.  

I still haven't heard back.

Concerto For Piano And Violin In C Minor

You must think me mad.

Well I have no reason to reason with you.  Because you never did learn to get to know me, and you never did learn to let me be.

But I will still claim to love you, now and for forever.  You don't deserve that at all, but I give it freely.  I understand the things we never speak of.  I understand the things you cannot see.

But you did always say that I was going to suffer.

And you always did say I was at fault.

You told me once that I was no better than the soil, 

and that I'd always be plain and dull and small.

What To Expect From Me For The Next Five Years:

-A lot of missed phone calls

-A lot of canceled weekend trips

-Short days

-Long nights

-Cookies (apologies)

-Music

-Half-finished craft projects

-3:00 am research papers

-Stained notebooks

-Unopened stationary

-About 4 really long hugs

-A lot of back aches

-Trash runs in the middle of the night

-Insecurity

-Carefully planned bedsheets

-Morning breath

-A half-present mind

-Paris themed walls

-Too many blog posts

-One sided conversations about how I think my legs are getting  really chubby

-No eye contact

-A box in my closet full of crap memories
-Matthew Broderick movie marathons

-Spice scented candles

-Unused ice skates

-An unfinished screenplay for a zombie movie

-A really long bucket list

-Exhausted use of the word awesome

-Fake laughing

-Awkward moments

-Ignored questions

-3200 used matches

-Hours of listening to classical music set to funky drum beats*

-Hipster jokes

-Glee: The Music - Volumes 2,3, and 5

-Duct tape pens

-Christmas sweaters

-Unwashed dishes
-Empty shelves
-Empty promises

*

My Indian Nose

"You have your grandmother's eyes, you have your father's nose."

They picked a little white girl to play Cinderella in my third grade play.  And I didn't think much of it, really.  But when they picked a blue eyed girl to play Rapunzel a few years after, I realized I'd never be that kind of princess.

I knew he was Indian when I turned 11.  That was the year my little sister asked him what tigers looked like.  That was the year I got glasses.  That was the year he ripped a chunk of hair out of my doll's head.  I knew it like I knew that yellow was just a color, and green was not.  Yes, that was the year his own mother died, and I recalled the day I met her years before and we didn't speak at all because neither of us knew how.  But I remember the tears on her face when we left.  She must have loved me, I just never heard it for myself.  

But he was Indian to me for the first time that year, and I can't say why.  I noticed that his skin looked darker and his grammar was poor, and his head had started balding, and his arms were more hairy.  I thought it was strange.  I never thought about what that made me until I was 15, and someone asked me if I had a feather or a dot*.  

They say that discovering yourself is like waking up.  And now I know why.  It took me 18 years, but I now understand the story of the lines on my hands and the curve of my nose.  I understand why my fingers bend backwards, as if there is no bone.  I understand the thick, dark hairs on my arms and my almond shaped eyes.  I know why my irises hide my pupils.  I know why my skin scars too easily and why sun screen was never necessary.  I get it.  I'm made for the sun and for the colors.  I'm made for rain and dust and heart.

I've fallen in love with the people and the country that I come from.  They are loud and nosy and stubborn, but they love with a love that matches God's.  They feel with their mouths and hear with their eyes.  And while many of them live with nothing, they are without a doubt the happiest people I know. And I love them and all that they stand for.  

Tradition, honor, family, and love.

నేను నా కుటుంబం మరియు నా సంస్కృతి ప్రేమ. నేను భారత రక్త కలిగి గర్వపడుతున్నాను. నేను లోపాలు కలిగి, మరియు నేను విచారం కలిగి, కానీ నేను వాటిని నాకు వదిలి కలిగి అనుకుంటున్నారా ఎప్పుడూ. వారు నా పూర్వీకులు నాకు కనెక్ట్ విషయాలు ఉన్నాయి. వారు నన్ను ఇంటికి తీసుకురావడానికి.

My aunt Margret, me, and my father

*The answer to that, by the way, is neither.

No one cares about the promises you keep.