New York

There's only room for half of me,
But I'm running late.
I squeeze in,
An older lady gives me a death glare.
I wonder why I moved to this city
A, B, C, all the way up to J, skip the H, I
S, Z, 1, 2, 3
And there's still no room for me.
Literally and figuratively.

The center of the universe,
This city seems to be made for someone that's not me.

But then,
A long run in a grandiose park.
Or,
Art, on the street and in museums.
Or,
Getting lost with good coffee in hand.
Noodles for every nationality.
Making eye contact across a subway platform.
We can be bold
Because we'll never see each other again.

Squeeze, sit, stand a little closer.
You make me feel less alone.

Borges

Ya te quiero

Encouraging (Depressing?) Words

You're no one till someone lets you down

I h8 u

And it feels so good

Ra-ra girl power, or something like that

It's really amazing, but I finally reached a breaking point. I didn't think it existed. Not for you and me.

I thought you could continue to mistreat me forever and I'd still love you. But I think I was underestimating myself.

The truth is that I've reached a real moment of clarity. And I've realized I no longer want to feel bad for myself. I've realized that being able to feel passionate, grand things is an ability that I have and that you lack. You will never feel the pain I do — it's true — but you will also never feel the happiness these crazy emotions once allowed me. Sure, I'm hurt. I now understand that you never cared that you hurt me. But I feel worse for you than for myself.

I've realized that you should only be so lucky to be with a (nice, intelligent, funny) person that cared for you as much as I did. And I deserve more than an asshole that's terrified of feeling something he can't explain with a mathematical equation.

I may have lost something today. But you lose, period.

The truth is that

You're like a lost puppy in a sea of emotions you can't rationalize away

Student-teachers

I've been teaching a group of pre-K and kindergarteners Spanish for a few weeks now.

Today, we learned to count to 10. After a couple of tries as a group and a few games, I asked who would be brave enough to try counting on their own.

Many of them raised their hand. I was impressed that so many of them got it so quickly!
I was about to give myself a good pat on the back until I realized that most of them could barely get to two. And still, they tried — no embarrassment, no judgment.

It's naive, I know, to assume that adults can be as carefree as these kids. But it got me wondering whether being a little more like them wouldn't be great. I have to really think about what I want to say and whether it is worth saying it before I do, especially in classes. I'm scared of saying something stupid, so I often don't say anything at all! Most perverse of all, questions need to be intellectually stimulating too (you might want to already know the answer, actually), so small doubts and concerns often go unanswered. And all because I don't want to seem like I don't understand, when in reality, that's what school is for.

I can personally learn something from these kids, who try, even when they know they'll "fail." The truth is, that's actually more impressive than always saying impressive things.