the-open-book: all you can see.

Let our lives be open books for all to study. (Mohandas Gandhi)
But still, there's a very strict line between sharing and too much information.

You can have Manhattan, the one we used to share,

the one where we were laughing and drunk on just being there.

You can have Manhattan, ‘cause I can’t have you.

Manhattan by Sara Bareilles.

“She was stronger alone,
and her own good sense so well supported her, that her firmness was as unshaken…”

—   Jane Austen (Sense and Sensibility, Chapter 23)

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference”

—   John Green (on The Fault in Our Stars)

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

—   Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald (on The Great Gatsby)

“It was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance.”

—   F. Scott Fitzgerald (on The Beautiful and Damned)
Taxi, Tram, Tall-building.
(The City of Melbourne, 2013)

Hana and the Beanstalk

This is not a fairy tale. This is real life.

I’m obviously not Jack. I’m not a poor farmer. I don’t have a cow, and I don’t get magic beans from a mysterious man. I never go to the market to trade my cow for anything. I never climb the beanstalk and fight with the giants to get rich. No, never.

But it’s happening.

It happens.

It’s not about Jack, his cow or the magic beans. It’s about what those things represent.

It’s about unexpected turns of event. It’s about trading what you have with something you never imagined to be so special. It’s about having the courage to try, to take chances, of doing things you never planed before. To try something new, something completely different. To get the best from what you have, or what life gave you.

For me?

I traded the chances to milk medical knowledge with the seed of international relations study.

All my life I planed to be a pediatrician, a pediatric surgeon precisely, never once imagined to have any career other than that. Never.

So yes, I was depressed. I keep looking for my cow, trying to get what I think I want to have and what I think will be the best for me.

It’s stupid, really, because I had the magic beans. Life have given me the magic beans. It’s in my hand all along, but I never realize it. No, I refuse to realize. All I know was that the cow is good, it’s pretty and can give me prosperity, and I want to have it. I regretted my decision to let that cow go, but never look at the magic beans.

Until now.

After having new opportunities, new acquaintances, new friends, and new focus, I realize I have the magic beans. And unknowingly, it’s growing. I just have to gather the courage to climb it. I need the courage to realize, to tell my self, that it’s there, and climb it. I need to gather the courage to let go of the cow.

I might meet the giants, or something even more horrifying.

I might fall, or someone probably want to chop down the beanstalk. But the beanstalk is there where the cow never was. I don’t know what it will give me.

I need to climb it to know. To meet the giants myself, and beat them. To fall and learn not to fall. To stop people from chopping down the beanstalk, and try not to think about them so much.

I need to climb it.

Who knows, probably the cow is up there waiting for me. Bigger, prettier, healthier cow. Or maybe cows.

I don’t know.

To know it, I need to climb it.

To climb it, I need to accept the magic beans and let go of the cow.

I’m not Jack, but I do have the magic beans. And it’s growing. I just have to climb the beanstalk.

It’s a brave new world. It’s not a fairy tale, never was.

F1 will be finished soon, and Sebastian already crowned with the World Champion title.

It’s going to be a very memorable season - not because Seb won it for the fourth time - but because I was there, in the track. Yep, I took the chance to watch the first race of this season LIVE in Albert Park, Melbourne. It was wonderful! It was loud and most of time you have to look at the screen anyway because the cars are just too fast, but it was the best day of my life! I got to walk on the track, a kind stranger gave me a set of earplugs, I saw the madness of F1 fans from all over the world, I got to buy stuff, and - the most exciting - I got to see Kimi Raikkonen so closeee!! Yes, I was in front of the podium, watching my favorite guy celebrated his victory with the champagne. I even almost got Alonso’s hat if it’s not for that stupid reporter. But it was generally a good day, and even though the wind did not very friendly, it did not rain a bit unlike the day before’s qualification.

I wish I can do this more often in the future - especially because Kimi will be in Ferrari again. And next time, I hope I will be walking on the pit lane and say hi to the pit crew - and the drivers if I’m lucky enough.

What a season, what a memory.

And last, to quote Marriane Dashwood: “Is there any felicity superior than this?

Shrinking Women

A poem by Lily Myers

Across from me at the kitchen table, my mother smiles over red wine that she drinks out of a measuring glass.
She says she doesn’t deprive herself,
but I’ve learned to find nuance in every movement of her fork.
In every crinkle in her brow as she offers me the uneaten pieces on her plate.
I’ve realized she only eats dinner when I suggest it.
I wonder what she does when I’m not there to do so.

Maybe this is why my house feels bigger each time I return; it’s proportional.
As she shrinks the space around her seems increasingly vast.
She wanes while my father waxes. His stomach has grown round with wine, late nights, oysters, poetry. A new girlfriend who was overweight as a teenager, but my dad reports that now she’s “crazy about fruit.”

It was the same with his parents;
as my grandmother became frail and angular her husband swelled to red round cheeks, rotund stomach
and I wonder if my lineage is one of women shrinking
making space for the entrance of men into their lives
not knowing how to fill it back up once they leave.

I have been taught accommodation.
My brother never thinks before he speaks.
I have been taught to filter.
"How can anyone have a relationship to food?" He asks, laughing, as I eat the black bean soup I chose for its lack of carbs.
I want to tell say: we come from difference, Jonas, 
you have been taught to grow out
I have been taught to grow in
you learned from our father how to emit, how to produce, to roll each thought off your tongue with confidence, you used to lose your voice every other week from shouting so much
I learned to absorb
I took lessons from our mother in creating space around myself
I learned to read the knots in her forehead while the guys went out for oysters
and I never meant to replicate her, but
spend enough time sitting across from someone and you pick up their habits

that’s why women in my family have been shrinking for decades.
We all learned it from each other, the way each generation taught the next how to knit
weaving silence in between the threads
which I can still feel as I walk through this ever-growing house,
skin itching,
picking up all the habits my mother has unwittingly dropped like bits of crumpled paper from her pocket on her countless trips from bedroom to kitchen to bedroom again, 
Nights I hear her creep down to eat plain yogurt in the dark, a fugitive stealing calories to which she does not feel entitled.
Deciding how many bites is too many
How much space she deserves to occupy.

Watching the struggle I either mimic or hate her,
And I don’t want to do either anymore
but the burden of this house has followed me across the country
I asked five questions in genetics class today and all of them started with the word “sorry”.
I don’t know the requirements for the sociology major because I spent the entire meeting deciding whether or not I could have another piece of pizza
a circular obsession I never wanted but

inheritance is accidental
still staring at me with wine-stained lips from across the kitchen table.


Brilliant! Love it!

(Courtesy: Button Poetry)

"Your dream is something you want to achieve, even if you are not good at it. You think about your dream when you are eating, and even when you are sleeping. My dream is what makes me feel good."

Maybe in this world, he’s the only one who will understand.

But… he’s not even real.

(from Good Doctor, 2013)