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  • Patricia

    Patricia

    Majority of my friends call me Trish, I guess you could call me that too. I'm a transcriptions editor with a really messed up body clock and never ending affinity for films, food and written words. I like street art, sweets, neutrals and monochromes, sushi, window seats, golf carts and lazy weekends.

    Some of the things that completely preoccupy me are my fixation with the now defunct The Civil Wars and their beautiful art of sadness, Oh Sehun, sleeping, CSS and HTML, @iameden, and those damn hypnotizing Tasty videos. Top country in my travel bucketlist? Iceland. But the one that will always have my heart? Hong Kong.

    Come find me.


    Wishlist for a person who got lost and was never found
    (after Jeffrey McDaniel)

    I want a fortune teller who convinces her customers 
    they will end up with the person they love no matter what.

    I want an entire year of silence with only the sound of whales
    splashing in the surf to guide me home at night.

    I want to pay a prostitute five dollars to sit in my bed
    and hold my hand, nothing else.

    I want a month without hurricanes because they remind me
    too much of how my father left us when we were young
    and still sucking our thumbs, and tore up our lives.

    I want someone to look me in the eye when they talk
    about their feelings.

    I want the breath between you and me in winter to be
    all the things we could never say to each other,
    spelled out in front of our faces like smoke.

    I want to play telephone with a paper cup
    and have to wonder whether the person on the other end
    really means what they’re saying.

    I want to stick myself under your door like dead leaves
    so people will step over me like they always have.

    I want a pair of scissors that won’t hurt me.

    I want an apology that rings true.


    Wishlist for a person who got lost and was never found
    (after Jeffrey McDaniel)

    I want a fortune teller who convinces her customers 
    they will end up with the person they love no matter what.

    I want an entire year of silence with only the sound of whales
    splashing in the surf to guide me home at night.

    I want to pay a prostitute five dollars to sit in my bed
    and hold my hand, nothing else.

    I want a month without hurricanes because they remind me
    too much of how my father left us when we were young
    and still sucking our thumbs, and tore up our lives.

    I want someone to look me in the eye when they talk
    about their feelings.

    I want the breath between you and me in winter to be
    all the things we could never say to each other,
    spelled out in front of our faces like smoke.

    I want to play telephone with a paper cup
    and have to wonder whether the person on the other end
    really means what they’re saying.

    I want to stick myself under your door like dead leaves
    so people will step over me like they always have.

    I want a pair of scissors that won’t hurt me.

    I want an apology that rings true.

    . Wednesday, July 17, 2013 .

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