Life's too Short to Forget.

Sometimes I forget that I’m not the only person in this world. I forget that I’m not the only one struggling. I forget that there are millions of beautiful people who are crying and dying and they have much harder lives than I do.

Sometimes I forget, and that’s okay.

Sometimes I forget that it’s okay to eat a burger, fries and a shake every once in a while. I forget that it’s okay not to be a certain height or weight and strut down darkened paths in time with techno music. I forget that it’s okay not to suck it in all the time.

Sometimes I forget, and that’s okay.

Sometimes I forget that it’s completely normal to feel like everything’s falling apart, especially when you wake up with a couple new mountains on your forehead and naturally dry elbows. I forget that it’s okay not to be the one he talks to and smiles at.

Sometimes I forget, and that’s okay.

Sometimes I forget that it’s okay to make a mistake. Sometimes I forget that no one is perfect. I forget that it’s okay to mess up. It’s okay to freak out. It’s okay to back up. It’s okay to do things backwards and learn what is best for you.

Sometimes I forget, and that’s okay.

Sometimes I forget that it’s okay to feel like you’re stuck on repeat and everyday blends into the next. Sometimes I forget that I will be gone sooner than I think and whether or not I believe it, I will miss this place.

Sometimes I forget, and that’s okay.

Sometimes I forget that this isn’t it. That there is so much more to everything. I forget that I won’t work in fast food forever. I forget it’s okay that I hate when my hands smell like peanut butter even though I’m not allergic. I forget that one day if I work hard enough, I will work my dream. A dream job.

Sometimes I forget, and that’s okay.

Sometimes I forget that it’s okay to be different. I forget to remember where I came from. I forget that no one will care if I spent lunch in the library. Sometimes I forget to tell people I love them. Sometimes it’s okay to forget to smile at everyone and be smiled at for once.

Sometimes I forget these things
but then I remember;
it’s all going to be okay.

Much Love,

Katherine

Life.

I have one picture left on my film camera.
I can't help but want to save it for a moment that I know will only happen once. When we've only got one chance to make something good, often we try harder to make it the best.
Being human, most of the time we take advantage of the fact that we'll always have other chances. But one day, we will run out.

Words of advice arrived in my mailbox today:

"This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it."
-Ralf Waldo Emerson

It is wonderfully true. Don't forget about the small things in life that make up our days and never assume that everything will stay as it is. The world moves on without looking back to see who's still dreaming of the past, and we should do well to live in the present and make sure we make everyday a good time.


Smile, you never know when you're making a memory.

Much Love & Spontaneity,

Katherine

You Can't Hurry Love.

Love is constantly a flight
and only when you're still
will it ever stop to perch
on your shoulders,
tapping your head
with smug recognition
because you couldn't see
its intentions while you
were trying so hard
to pin it down.


The best kind of love is worth waiting for; you can't find it just anywhere.


Much Love & Luck,

Katherine

Packaged and Sealed.

There are emotions that rage in everyone.
Some are more hidden than others,
and only rear their ugly heads at
the most inopportune moments.
There is exhaustion, a result of my own procrastination.
There is guilt, caused by my conscience.
There is irritation, caused by the man taking forever to fix my camera.
There is stress, caused by a multitude of circumstances.
There is pain, because I'm lonely.
There is more.
There is always more.
And all of these are stuck to my insides, rising to my eyes and
threatening to escape as I just try,
I try and try to box myself in.

Flashback.

"Are you Chinese?" the girl spat at me.
"No..." I mumbled. "I'm half Hmong."
"Monk? What's that?" She looked at me like I should be bald and humming in an orange robe.
"Not Monk. Hmong. My mom is from Laos." I clarified.
"Where's that?"
"It's over by Thailand."
"Where's Thailand?"
Had this girl even heard of a world map?
"Under China. On the other side of the world?" I answered, trying not to let too much sarcasm coat my voice.
"Why do your eyes look like that?" She demanded, narrowing hers.
"Like what?" I asked, hoping she would drop it. She didn't.
"Like this." She used her hands to stretch her eyes into barely visible slits.
"All squinty and stuff. Can you even see?"
I hadn't thought my eyes were any different from anyone else. They worked just fine.
"I have 20-20 vision." I said.
"I heard that's not even that good." She retorted.
I said nothing, hoping she would go away. The bell rang, signaling the end of recess. The girl skipped to the front of the line with her friends and I stayed behind. My arms were crossed in front of my chest as if to hold in all the tears and stop my heart from hurting. Was I really that different from everyone else? I inhaled deeply and wondered how the rest of 3rd grade was going to go.

Fall.

September is made
with burning trees
apple cider
and falling leaves.

It's crocheted in brown
and stitched in yellow.
It is cozy scarves
and a cuddly fellow.

It is warmth from
love, cold shivers
from rain and a
brightness of hope
that knows no name.

--Katherine Ellis
Sept. 10, 2011

From a Letter to His Daughter

Ralph Waldo Emerson



Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.
Some blunders and absurdities
no doubt have crept in;
forget them as soon as you can.
Tomorrow is a new day;
begin it well and serenely
and with too high a spirit
to be cumbered with
your old nonsense.

This day is all that is
good and fair.
It is too dear,
with its hopes and invitations,
to waste a moment on yesterdays.


Much Love & Courage,

Katherine