Wendilicious
Moi

Teach. Sing. Write. Fly. Dive. Rave.

I'm not the girl your mom warned you about, her imagination was never this good.

Work for pasta and ice cream and also makes pasta and ice cream work for me.

Ecoutez

More of me

Listen to me

Watch me
4/17/20, 9:25 PM
An Original Poem: Archives

I am not tamed
I am not boring
I am not older
I am not lame
I am happier
I am loved
I am content

Because I don’t need to go out searching something that makes me happy when I have everything I want and more already. I don’t need to engage in wild parties to force my logical (no longer logical) mind to chuck down alcohol that hurts me physically, only to numb the doubts and resistance to seek some fun. I don’t need to fly across the world and experience new things alone, and forge friendships jumping off bridges and trust my safety completely in these precious strangers (though I love em) while getting high together, the same friends who eventually now seem like a blotch in my heart and memory, one I revisit every now and there and feel warm misses knowing I once had something special miles apart.

I am placing some of these memories in archive. Even the one that seeks to be fully independent when it comes to letting someone in. The one where I tell myself time and time again, not to get tricked and the only person you can trust is yourself. The one that flew across the globe to capture memories on her own. The girl who went through 24hours on a plane mourning the loss of her best friend alone. The memories of the best party under the full moon beside the ocean and meeting the most incredible pot of people from everywhere. The memories of trusting these people. The memory of losing her ticket stub and a completely new friend paying for her, and crying when she thought she lost that friend. That time I think my drink got spiked while being so concerned for everyone else and forgetting my own, then a new stranger protected me. Surviving 24hours or partying without sleep in a hostel without locked doors for my valuables. Surviving a 6 days without my phone. Surviving a police raid and watching regular young looking men seeking dangerous pleasures while u laugh about it with my new found BFFs. A stream of themed parties follows.

Dancing through the waves, the stretch of sand, running in beach attire along streets and rejecting advances with every crazy turn I make in the crowd, only wanting to have a good time with myself and my new friends. Rolling under the stars and appreciating the party with tinted drunk glasses. Being brave to let loose. Then having to switch that off. The moment I cried leaving that place, where I felt more in control then anywhere else was dreadful. But that’s all just a beautiful memory now. A tattoo of bravery I wear so I refer to every now and then as something checked off my bucket list.



I have something real
Something precious
Just one thing
That sustains me.

Someone that makes me feel the same joy I felt from the comfort of being in the same bed. Someone that I didn’t need to share anything or show anything to seem exclusive worthy special. Someone who makes me want to keep trying to be a better me, even when I don’t have to.

Someone I trust maybe even more than fleeting encounters with strangers who can’t hurt me.
Someone who deals with my emotions better than alcohol.
Someone who makes me the light of ever room, the life of every party, without having to step into any party.
Someone who allows me space to be brave and to be 100% me without having to travel half the world to rid my teacher identity.
Someone who coincidentally saw all that was exclusively special about me when I was 13, way before I traveled the world to find myself.

Labels: , , , , , , , , , , , ,