Book Haul: Vancouver June 2017 (and reasons to buy from local bookstores)

I’m Canadian! I was just in Canada last week during Canada Day. 😀 I love being Canadian, and right now more so than being American. For one thing, they don’t have a crazy President, and most importantly THEY HAVE BOOKSTORES. Ok, well we do have bookstores in America… they are dying out though. Anyways. Bookstores are alive and kicking in Vancouver. I have warm and fuzzy thoughts thinking about bookstores and how inviting they look all packed with fresh new books waiting to be discovered. But you don’t want to hear my warm and fuzzy thoughts. Let’s get on to the book haul!

So I bought two of Julie Murphy’s books Ramona Blue and Dumplin. I thought these two books were fantastic. They cover hard topics about teenagers trying to cope with poverty, sexuality, and body shaming. Murphy’s style of writing didn’t hook me as well as some other authors, but I think she does a wonderful job diving into issues and drawing in her readers into the shoes of her characters. I think the reason why I didn’t enjoy them as much was that they almost felt like popcorn reads. Popcorn, as in you munch on them really fast because they are salty and crunchy, but you don’t take the time to savor them. Don’t get me wrong. These books are delicious, but for me, it wasn’t a seasoned steak to chew on. I think it’s also because I’ve read so much YA over the years that when I read new books, I have very jaded views because there are so many fantastic books in this genre. It makes me sad because the more I read, I feel like the harder it will be for me to find a book that really shakes me. Anybody else?

Okay, so the next book I bought for myself was actually a collection of poems. I love reading poetry and I have Sarah Kay’s No Matter the Wreckage and also, of course, Rupi Kaur‘s Milk and Honey. I think Sarah Kay has mastered the art of living through her poems if that makes sense. With Milk and Honey, it’s different because it’s sort of a cathartic way for Kaur to channel her ups and downs in life. For that reason, I think that some people don’t like reading her poems because they can be a jarring and emotional exhausting to read all together. I haven’t read this poetry book yet. I feel like poetry needs to have a special time in my day where I can really devote myself into dissecting it’s prose. I’m not busy, but I don’t think I’m mentally available to start reading it yet. (Also I’m so excited about the typewriter in the background of this photo! We had to go check in baggage just to bring it back to LA)

Now, I know that all these books that I bought in Canada are available online on Book Depository or Amazon for a much cheaper price, but it’s nice to walk into a bookstore once and awhile and meander in the smell of crisp pages. Buying books at your local bookstore ensure that the people who work there can keep doing what they love and it makes sure that you can keep perusing through their shelves. Because public libraries are great, but we all have to admit that old and used books that have been shared can sometimes get a little crusty…

Here’s a picture I took of my sister reading in a used bookstore in northern cali

I’ll try to be back soon. I love you all so much. Tell me what you think about Sarah Kay and Rupi Kaur! Do you guys agree or disagree?


You must think that I am like the others before
Who coat hung themselves to you yearning to not be forgotten and left trampled on the ground

I am of a different sort.

Before reaching to you, I am grounded in myself

You are not a raft boat that I am searching for in this sea because I am not drowning

I learned how to swim for myself long before you reached out benevolently

Do not think you are saving a damsel in distress because I am the hero in my own story 

This road to self love was not easy so dismiss any notion that I will just hand over my individuality.


she pushes you against the wall
in the hidden hallway
pushing her lips to yours like you are the air she breathes
her kisses are innocent forget-me-nots
warm like breezy summer nights at the beach before a crackling fire

she pushes you against the wall
in passing period
and instead of passion you taste possession
her lips trail the boundaries on your skin that mark you for her own
when did her kisses stop being for you and for the people watching

she will push you up against the wall
after your football game
she is too sweet like candy you have gorged yourself on
when she finally leaves
you can still feel how she sticks to parts of you refusing to let go

she will push you up against the wall
after she finds you kissing someone else
her lips have become the mouth of a roaring dragon
her words sear across your skin like fire
and when she leaves you forever all you feel is a cold relief

-because you are a F***boy

My Problems with 13 Reasons Why

A tv show does not make you the expert on suicide
the reality is much more painful and less dramatic
sometimes there are no reasons why
you have this gaping sadness that swallows you whole every morning
there are no explanations why you feel every moment like you are drowning on dry land
There are not enough reasons why
our minds cannot help but rewind like cassette players
replaying over and over the worst moments as if it just happened
we cannot stop cutting ourselves with memories
so we become our own enemies stuck in a nightmarish replay
there are girls, whenever they look into mirrors they hate themselves because no matter how many breakfasts, lunches, dinners, they skip
despite the number of ribs they can count through their skin
they still can’t reach the perfection of alabaster plastic surgery skin on our screens
And we push away the people around us because we think it’s better to hold this weight on our own because we are constantly afraid that others would find us disgusting when they see how much baggage we carried
sometimes suicide is not revenge,
it is a decision you make when you truly believe that death would be better than any life when you are tired of breathing
Often times, it is not the people around us to blame, but the sickness in our mind that eats away at our will to live, our purpose, our happiness
and it is a decision leaving crushed bones, families and dripping blood.
Blood. My friend almost died from losing too much blood after cutting herself in her bathtub at home.
It was not a gratuitous moment but one that was so horrifying, she can’t look at blood anymore.
Do you understand now?
our struggle is an ocean of anguish that cannot be measured and should never be cashed in for it’s worth as a drama.

Clarinet Memories

I hear them whisper dirty things about you
that you sent nudes to a man
while you were still with another
but all I still remember is your smile
the kindness you showed me
it’s hurtful to hear all these things about you
I wonder what happened to the girl who I used to know
Who called us clarinet buddies in elementary school
We would giggle and whisper in between measures of rests
you played songs to my lonely heart when I was an alien in a new school
But you left band in the 8th grade
Middle school is where they say you fell off the deep end
Now in high school
we don’t talk anymore
I see you pass by class to class
but we are entities in spheres that are worlds apart
I wonder when did this madness begin for you
I wonder if we had just stayed in touch
What we could have both been
But tomorrow
or next week
I will see you pass by again
but this time instead I will stop you
Pause a moment to say hi and ask how you are doing
You were a friend from my past who made me a home
A safe place between the measures of rests and notes
So it’s the least I can do
to just stop and give you a moment of my time

Breaking free

I have to wake up at 5am for a swim meet and then my brain itches cuz I haven’t written poetry in two weeks… 😑 #midnightpoetry
I am a Asian American woman.

Prouder than ever

Strength in my bones

Because the moment I was born

my race and sex forced me to carry fetters binding me to the weight of inequality

But I stand tall despite the extra weight of this gravity
We women of color

not only stand but we climb

We climb and bleed to reach our dreams

Only to find the glass the separates us from truly reaching them

So I sharpen my tongue

I pound my voice into a iron weapon

to shatter this glass in my way

I use each word in my arsenal to bring shame to those who rule over me

They cower in fear when I speak the truth
Though the world storms at me

I am a force to rival nature

I plant my feet firmly like roots
I am a tree that gives life

I will never be swept away

I break all their rules not only for myself

but for all men and women of races

For I am a feminist

And you’ll find me running round