To the bottle of window cleaner sitting in the corner of my room

I’m sorry. I really am.

I built our relationship on the unstable foundations of promise and purpose, telling you every day that you were going to be put to work. I had dreams that you would eradicate the dirt and fingerprints that blur the panes of my windows, but alas, 20 days have passed and you have not moved from your own little corner.

I am guilty of including you in my planner, carefully scratching down the words “clean windows” with my smooth, dark black gel pen, only to put off that bullet point in lieu of making pointless Tik Toks in my room. I am wrong to instill in you a purpose that you are waiting every day to act on. I led you on, but never admitted that you were not a priority to me. It was easy to overlook you when you were there everyday. I chose the activities that brought me greater excitement, had a sense of new to them that I could indulge in.

There may come a day where I will return you to your dark spot under the bathroom sink without utilizing you because I am simply too lazy to go downstairs and grab paper towels from the kitchen. And when I do go in the kitchen, what does it say about our relationship when I forget to bring back the one thing that complements you and fulfills your purpose?

I will let you sit there for a few more days, accumulating more specks of dust. Maybe circumstances will change and my mentality will focus in on you. I thank you for waiting for me for so long, so patiently. Your service is appreciated.

The Sentimental *Return* of the Receipt

Before I left home to go back to college for Thanksgiving break, I opened the smaller compartment of my wallet and took out all of the receipts I had accumulated over the past month. Each one was carefully folded into thirds, fourths, fifths, and so on depending on the size of my purchase and how many surveys the company wanted me to take in order to get customer feedback. I was in a hurry to get to the airport, so I tossed these little beings onto my desk in a messy pile. They weren’t waiting to be touched again or looked at. They were just there to be.

I came home again a few days ago and saw this pile on my desk. The first thought that came to my mind was, “How could I have been so irresponsible to discard them like that instead of throwing them away in the first place?”. Of course, since this was my thought, it wasn’t *that* elegantly phrased. But nevertheless, these were receipts. These were transaction records that were no longer needed since I couldn’t return the food that had already been consumed or the shirt whose tag I ripped off months ago.

So why hang on to these strips of paper?

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Clouds

I recently spent a weekend with my dorm friends in an AirBnb in the middle of the woods near a small lake. I will admit that the location itself was kind of bland because the only thing to explore was the lake, but it got me thinking a lot about what constitutes our environment around us and how that may affect our thought processes.

I think we undervalue the presence of clouds in our lives. I grew up in Washington where there was no one day where the clouds were absent from the gray sky, providing the atmosphere that is so commonly associated with the Pacific Northwest. I grew desensitized to those bodies that oversaw my 18 years there, but upon moving to California, the first thing I noticed was the sky. It was flat. It was 2D. There was nothing to indicate dimension and it saddened me to not have any signs of distance in the altitude above me. My eyes were accustomed to layers and levels of the sky that were so large in numbers that I couldn’t distinguish them all.

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Things I Can Do While Studying Online Until Covid-19 Goes Away

This is unprecedented. I have so much time on my hands that I don’t know what to do with and I’m a very hands-on person so I have to be doing something. I’ve brainstormed a list of things I could potentially do but probably won’t because I’m still lazy.

I will be updating this regularly.

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I can’t find my matcha: a crisis

Several years ago (about 6 I think), I went with my family to visit Japan for the first time with our close family friends who speak Japanese and helped us get around. That’s where I really first started to fall in love with Japanese culture and food, especially matcha. Little did I know that my relationship with matcha would get so complicated.

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