Quote of the Day

There are all these moment you think you won’t survive. And then you survive.

-David Levithan

Reminding myself that I’m alive and I’ve survived yesterday, I’m surviving today, and I’ll survive tomorrow. Thank you for all the support

AFRAID by Drake Mason

California, USA

I’m Afraid

Of spiders with fingers that linger
Of creepy clowns with crooked frowns
Of frightful heights without the safety of plentiful light
Of a shark running rampant through an aquatic park

I’m afraid

Of ugly babies that give me the heebie jeebies
Of mounting due dates because I started school late
Of new faces that come with unfamiliar places
Of not talking to that pretty girl because when I see her my mind starts to whirl

I’m afraid

Of not having the conviction to better my financial restrictions
Of saying something offensive because I don’t want to be insensitive
Of speaking out of turn because sometimes I don’t understand what I should learn
Of my insecurities disallowing me to be the best version of me that I can be

I’m afraid

Of terrorism and generally most other “isms” too
Of fire because it burnt mine and my family’s homes
Of natural catastrophes destructive enough to bring society to its knees
Of a struggling economy and the growing dichotomy between those who should fix it

I’m afraid

Of telling my grandmother that I don’t believe in God because I know she’ll stop loving me

Key Largo (Editorial #1)

I’ve been in Key Largo for six weeks, nearly. I’m spending time here working on myself, working on some trauma I’ve experienced. It’s a great program, and I’m willing to get the details to anybody who’s experienced trauma as well. But I miss home.

I’ve been writing–more than I have since I was in college. I’ve been journaling, reflecting on myself, writing poetry, and crafting short stories. It’s so exciting to be putting the pen to paper again. It’s what inspired me to re-open A Pear is a Pear.

If you’ve ever been in eating disorder treatment, you’ve heard the phrase “A body is a body, is a body.”

One day, in my recovery from bulimia nearly a year ago, my treatment friend got a pear for snack. She loved pears. Soft pears. Ripe pears. The pears that you bit into and the whole thing just fell apart in your mouth. That is not the pear she got that day for snack. It was the rock hard, crunch when you bite into it kind of pear.

Another girl shrugged. “A pear is a pear, is a pear.” She said.

So what is a pear?

It’s a body, apparently. A body shape, in many magazines. A sometimes not-so-ripe fruit. You know what I mean, though. A pear, it’s a metaphor. Of course it is. (It’s always a metaphor.) A body is a body, is a body. All bodies are good bodies. A pear is a pear, is a pear. All pears are good pears.

Don’t be so hard on yourself.

Give your writing a chance.

A pear is a pear, is a pear.