“A failure to be my best self” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Sunday January 15, 2017
6:22pm
5 minutes
Becoming Wise
Krista Tippett


When I broke into your home, your roommate was fucking her girlfriend. I wasn’t sure if I should stay, or go, or pretend that this was a normal way to spend a Wednesday evening. I knew that you were in China, and that a million different people were taking you out for every meal of the day. I knew that you hadn’t texted me back in exactly seventy six days. I get in your room, the moaning and screaming coming through the wall, and I’m not even sure what to do, I’m not even sure what I want. I take off all of my clothes. I climb into your bed. I drink in your smell.

“Would you like to try?” By Sasha at Sweet Cherubim


Saturday January 14, 2016 at Sweet Cherubim
4:12om
5 minutes
Overheard at Sweet Cherubim

I’m fucking terrified of drugs. Even Tylenol, I mean, I try to avoid it. Once, when I was really, really sick, Jessie took me to the hospital and I was so delirious I didn’t realize that the eleven year old doctor was shoving a hundred different things into my veins! Drugs! I mean, don’t you need some sort of consent for that? Isn’t that a legal thing? Once, once, my cousin Lorenzo tried to peer pressure me into smoking a joint and I just kicked him in the balls. Right in front of Nona. I don’t care!

“ten years ago” by Sasha on her couch


Friday January 13, 2016
12:28am
5 minutes
From an Instagram post

My father asks for his muffin
warmed up with butter on the side
The harmonies of the voices in the cafe
don’t distract him or me
I watch him spread the gold
across the steaming centre
and I laugh with the memory

a finished plate of pie
crumbs and streaks of ivory
vanilla ice cream like snow
his tongue the plough
cleaning the bone china
his mother passed down

“A failure to be my best self” by Julia on her bed


Sunday January 15, 2017
12:32pm
5 minutes
Becoming Wise
Krista Tippett


Since waking I have been making all sorts of lists
Things to do
What to eat
When to do them
How to eat it
All the tiny boxes either checked or unchecked
Waiting or finished
Day’s beginning turning into day’s middle then day’s end before the joints become lubricated enough to sustain it all
Since waking I have been making all sorts of lists
Who to write to
What my dreams were
What my dreams meant
Who I want to be today
Who I plan to be today
Who I end up being today
I have not scheduled in silence
Or stillness
Or sunshine
I have expected all to come when necessary
When called
When unavoidable
I have not promised to love myself in case I can’t quite get to it
I meant to reduce tasks and expectations and heartbreak and time travel of any kind
But I keep adding to the list without breathing first info what it feels like to be alive on a perfect day of perfect opportunity to give thanks

“Would you like to try?” by Julia on the reading chair


Saturday January 14, 2016
9:21pm
5 minutes
Overheard at Sweet Cherubim

I am in love with the way your skin stretches over machine
and keeps your bones warm
I am moved by your seeing spots and your seen spots and your perceived spots.
I like the way your muscles know just how to come into use without being used to embarrass your flesh.
I fully endorse the sounds you make that sound like happiness and the ones you make that sound like pain.
I am in love with your stomach solving problems and storing information in the most organized of ways.