“I’ll probably do it while you’re sitting on the toilet” by Julia on the toilet

Saturday February 10, 2018
12:18am
Who Says I’m Not a Romantic
Fernando Raguero

We bought new toilet paper and you used the last bit of the roll but forgot to change it and we bought new toilet paper so it would have been easy. It would have been satisfying or maybe you’re not me. It is satisfying to change the roll, out with the old, in with the new. It’s a fresh start. A roll that hasn’t yet gotten dusty or humid or damp. A roll that suggests a readiness for all. And maybe you’re not me. And I can’t expect you to wait for me to have dinner even though you invited me to have dinner. You might have meant dinner on a different night like tomorrow or Easter Sunday. I can’t expect you to buy a new garbage can if the old one is busted even if you said you’d pick it up after work. You might have meant you were going to pick up the garbage can and see if it was heavy. You might have meant pick it up and put it back down again.

Some things add up really nicely.

Some things make sense to me but not to you, maybe, because you are not me.

“I look forward to a random day”by Julia in her bed


Wednesday November 23, 2016
11:10pm
5 minutes
from a Facebook comment

We’ve been talking about getting a dog and getting land and getting away. It looks good on paper and so do we. A perfect little tiny town to raise a kid, visit our parents, live without constant contact with others. We’ve been talking about getting a dog and being more alone but less lonely and waking up to the leaves and the wild turkeys and the quiet. There’s a little place we like to go and imagine it all working out so perfectly. We take different routes on our way to find it and we don’t go tomorrow or even the day after but we both end up there. With the dog. And the paper we wrote it on.

“beyond borders” by Julia in the car


Tuesday February 9, 2016
6:57pm
5 minutes
from a Curl Ambassadors business card

I have pushed past the point of pain and now I spend most of my time lingering on regrets. What if, what if maybe, maybe if. They all sound the same. I know I have exhausted the semantics on this. It’s better, honestly, than trying to live in the hurt. Now I live in the past and keep myself afloat with dreams of what could have been. I am a master of this disguise. I am fooling everyone around me. I know how to dress to keep attention away from the truth. But I don’t know how long I can keep this up. It sounds great on paper but on paper you miss the whole, heart thumping out of tune thing, the deafening silence, the whimpering over hot tea turned cold every morning.

“Questions about living” by Julia in the oZu Theatre


Thursday September 18, 2014
12:49pm
5 minutes
a Word document

Oh those are the big ones and the best ones and the hard ones and the important ones. Those ones that keep you up at night… “When will my mind grow an extra pair of hands?” “When will my soul sprout wings and soar?” “When will true silence stop breaking my heart?” “When will the truth stop stirring my spirit?”
Those ones with the capital W and the agonizing honesty. Those ones with the empty lined paper begging to be filled. Those ones with the armour melting at the seams.