& then there is everything else & no one else and that is the most magnetic place for a girl to find herself. boots feel heavy on the first day of winter, but curls like snails shells do not. i am flying south for winter and even when it does make me nervous to walk alongside a war, i know its necessary. somewhere in the aftermath is a house that could have been an olive-y home had the history not fallen in the pieces it did. thanks for the best advice, though/ i feel wildly strong. "keep your eyes open, the room will spin less. sit still and listen to what's going on around you, you have to stay present. don't cross your legs. if you do, you won't feel as much and even though it kind of hurts, it's better to feel it, it means you're awake and you're ok." i gave blood weeks ago and the nurse kept repeating these lines. in a way, it was clinical, but in a 3:02 AM space, it is more like prose.

sincerely,

expatriette in tunis.

polish your craft, fold it once and give it to people who have a certain look about them. those were his guidelines, but not his rules. i immediately liked that i was only going to talk to him once and it was a perfect 30 minute city block. i felt like the best version of myself: especially considering all the green, orange and purple things i was about to buy and roast and puree to eat with an eel. i made a sauce that tasted like fresh grass and it reminded me of recess and playing cat's cradle with our backs up against the school's bricks. other little girls who had big hair and soft voices are at the heart of this memory.

sincerely,

your expatriette in tunis.

i'm studying for cell biology and writing a paper about T.S. eliot and my brain is very blurred and i think einstein's dreams were born on playgrounds like this. the thoughts floating in my brain now are bouncing between signal pathways, non-covalent bonds, hyacinth girls, fortune tellers and memory and desire. also, today i was both impulsive and indecisive and bought too many cupcakes at the little glass shoppe and shared them with the strangers in my class. we all had a salty caramel and champagne moment and it was so light and lazy.

sincerely,

your expatriette in tunis.

a young girl writes to her pet bird:

I'm sorry for my dramatic flair. I didn't mean to yell, it's just that I've been breathing crowded air and I terribly needed a release. I trust you. I know its awful and exhausting when I let go, but you're the only one I'd let see me like that. I love you and I'm jealous of your wings.

Tunis

I miss the street all the time,
salty sea breeze and rain.

jasmine, jazz man wails

"fall in love my fallen love."
ironed on and cobble stoned in,

strangers danced,

longing for each other

in desert places.

Sometimes pressing buttons will cause people, places and things to chase after you & race to meet you. I am a girl whose nicknames are longer than my real name and who sees the world through olive-tinted glasses. Someone once said that while most people live in their country, my country lives inside me and I think for this reason I like to push these buttons often. This morning I swayed in the hallway while waiting for the elevator, I never have to wait too long, but time is relative and I'm never in a rush. I swayed to the melody of the humming that waved out of my vibrating lips. In that moment, i experienced the sounds as if it was something happening to me, rather than something i had created. That extra-sensory perception of the way i breathe and move triggers memories of my mom. her fingers would crawl along with her anxiety up the steering wheel on the stressful mornings when she'd tiredly drive us to school. It was a synapse where her wrists intersected with her memories and her fingers with her feelings and the result was a swivel of her small hands that showed me more about how she felt and experienced the world than any other action she shouted or word she made. i thought about her until the elevator came.

p.s. I would like to write a short story about a man who is the only documented case of an adult who outgrew his/her autism. I have a feeling he might miss the way he used to see the world and the singularity of his perception. He might spend the rest of his life trying to find a new way to see the world, through kaleidoscopes, telescopes and the glass his girlfriend makes.

I also thought it would be important to write a story about things that were accidentally dropped but ended up in places of purpose and the bird who couldn't find her purpose because she never quite let herself fall.

sincerely,

chicago deel.

this morning i woke up and i was twenty and for the first time, i felt younger. surprisingly, it wasn't the coffee i drank with the old drifted friends and the puzzling way we fit together timelessly over the course of all the little stretching withering things. it was reaching into my glove compartment and pulling out pieces of my childhood. this is what happens when i rock into a lull between work and school and i wake up in a bed covered in clothes i don't want anymore. i bought a new perfume that fits the exact direction i moved in, i just need my life to catch up. can a person outgrow their sentiment? i feel like i have and that i need to buy new clothes. i just want something that fits. 

Sincerely,

your expatriette in tunis.