Sketchbook

Self-discovery under the watchful eye of the cyberworld

I love how you wake me up in the morning. How you break into my room, pull down my sheets climbing into my bed and just… laugh.
Speaking of which, I love your laughter. I love how it starts slowly and then explodes. You teach me about joy in a way that no one has ever done.
I love your smile. I love the tiny dimple on your left cheek and how your eyes shine when you’re happy.
I love our secret handshake. I love how whenever anyone asks you: “Who’s Dasha?” You say “best friend” without hesitation. I love holding your hand (or you holding my pointer finger, I guess). I love giving you butterfly kisses and I love your eskimo kisses. 

I love how you care when I’m upset. How, when you hug me, the world feels like a warm and beautiful place. How we can dance to Leona Lewis’ “I’ve Got You” and every time she sings that line, you stop whatever you’re doing, wrap your tiny arms around my legs, laugh and say “I’ve got you!”

I love how when I’m getting ready to go out, you run into the bathroom with a smile on your face and say: “Wow. Dasha’s beautiful.” 

I love how you run to me when I pick you up from daycare and everything and everyone else just fades away. 

I love reciting the Lord’s Prayer to you. 

I love you. Every part of you. Your laughter, your tears, your voice. Even if I complain about carrying you all over Irvine (because of course you have to sit on my shoulders), it’s my favorite thing in the world. I love singing with you in the streets. 

I never expected you. I never thought my life would change in the way that it did. I thought I’d be alone, in a broken family, with a broken heart, and broken faith. And then you somehow came into the world… in a way that was so sudden, so quick and unpredictable that it changed not just my life but me.

You were a month early but to me, you were years late because my life didn’t start until you came into it. 

I love you, Maksimka. 

I’m secretly a night owl. 
Shhh.
Sleep is only a manner of escape. On days I’m happy I wish we never had to sleep. Because night is when we all transform into… well, ourselves. We lay our wishes and our hearts upon the stars, we are vulnerable with friends and with strangers… we do things we don’t expect from ourselves. 

Night has always felt magical. Things can happen in the night that could never happen in the day. Things can be created that could never come to life during the day. 

But night is a time of confession. 

It’s funny that I’m awake. I should be hiding. 

Thank you to everyone who has “described” me recently. Brave. Unbreakable. Unstoppable. “You cry?”

It’s funny. I’m scared. Broken. Halted. Sometimes, I cry. And all I want is to be with people who are okay with that. People who know to shut up and drive with me silent in the passenger seat. People who can hold me when I’m falling asleep and drowning in my thoughts. People who still tell me when I’m beautiful when I cry. 

And I have you.

The world’s a scary place sometimes. Especially at night. Especially when the stars are scarce and I’m alone, free to create with awful metaphors and a confused heart. But I’m grateful for the people that I can be honest with. People who push me to be honest… even if that means making me angry, breaking me down…

But I’m scared to admit how terrified and small I feel lately. Yes, I’m strong. Yes, I’ll get through it. I always do. And I can do it on my own, I can turn to you just when I NEED to. 

But I don’t want to anymore. I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to…

I need a wish. A shooting star, a clock to beat midnight, a magic moment to make me believe in the world one more time. 

Or I could just have someone who’ll make me believe in magic. I’ll take that over a shooting star anyday. Because when the night is gone and a new day is here to take me on… well. It’d be wonderful to have something to keep me believing in miracles. 

I’m not strong. I’m too afraid to show how weak I can be. 

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda


“We’re all a little weird. And life is weird. And when we find someone
whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into
mutually satisfying weirdness—and call it love—true love.” Dr. Seuss


“But I know the heart of life is good”

” I went to lady’s house to drop off some crack and I saw the look in the boy’s eyes that said ‘you’re taking food out of our refrigerator, food off our table,’ and I thought man, I’m putting him in the same situation that I was running from. I was running from poverty” - “Freeway” Ricky Ross

This guy basically jumpstarted the crack cocaine industry. If this isn’t a commentary on what exactly fuels the drug trade and some of the most intense problems of society, I don’t know what is. Poverty is the root of some of the most important issues that we deal with and it’s ridiculous how little we do about it. 

I can’t wait to run away to France. 

To walk the ancient streets

And forget the complaints of a young heart. 

Trying to Stay Positive: Good Things About Being Sick

1. Nothing else matters. Except for all the classes that you’re going to have to study extra hard for in order to make up. But that doesn’t matter… yet. 

2. Everyone loves you and wants you to feel better.

3. You know that when you feel better, you’ll feel the best you’ve ever felt. 

4. Some medicine tastes good.

5. Funny stories about the strange doctor.

6. Extra sleep. 

7. You delete all of your annoying music that you couldn’t let go of because now it’s not just annoying, it’s also painful. 

8. You get more facebook stalking done in a day than you have in a month.

9. Amazing nyquil-induced dreams. I definitely kicked Ghengis Khan’s butt last night and rode a horse through a winter storm. 

10. You can fall sleep anywhere, anytime. 

11. You figure out who your true friends are because they’ll try to cover your shifts, bring you notes from class, give you hw, drive you places, feed you, and put up with you when you overdose on Russian cough syrup. Basically holy crap I’m lucky. 

12. Having a swolen throat is a perfectly good reason to not have arguments with people who are trying to get on your nerves. 

13. Your brain thinks of genius ideas that will sound psycho when you’re better but in the meantime, you feel really smart. 

14. You’re more honest with yourself because you don’t have the extra energy to feel anyway other than how you do. 

15. On the rare days you’re feeling okay, class is actually REALLY fun. 

Beauty and the Media

Apparently you have to click on the “Beauty and the media” link to get the video

I’ve never been someone who’s been too worried about image. At least, not consciously… But we all worry about it. Instead, I’ve seen friends (all of whom I thought were BEAUTIFUL) battling anorexia, depression, even thoughts of suicide because they thought they weren’t good enough.

And it’s ridiculous. 

I think that girls need to be reminded that beauty isn’t about looking like a model on a magazine cover. It’s about being joyful and healthy. 

I’m sure that there are a billion things out there for people to see that are like this, but if someone watches this and it speaks to them and reminds them that they are beautiful… well. That’d be awesome :)