Hi there!

Hi! Welcome to my corner of the internet. I'm a 26 year old therapist, feminist, photographer, and shop owner currently living in Seattle, Washington. My shop, Dealign with Feelings, is geared toward destigmatizing and normalizing mental health. I'm biased, but I think we have some pretty cute stuff :) Click the "shop" tab to see what we've got! I mainly post about my travel and daily life on here. With other random musings thrown in. I post more frequently (and about more feminism) on my Instagram @emmycoletti, so make sure you're following me there. Thanks for stopping by!

Monday, March 7, 2011

India.

I went to my first meeting for India yesterday. None of it really hit me until then. I mean, I heard about it and thought it would be cool. I applied and thought it would be cool. I got an interview and thought it was cool. I got accepted and thought it was cool. I walked into the room and thought it was cool. And then I realized it wasn't cool. It was amazing. Unbelievable almost.
I am going to India where I will help kids learn English. I will pass out kits to women who have their babies on dirt floors and who have to cut the umbilical cords with a two year old, used razor. I will visit orphanages where children will help me, and I will help them.
I will make a difference.
I can't thank the world enough. This is the best opportunity I have ever been given. I haven't even gone yet and already I get goosebumps thinking about it. Every morning I wake up smiling and I find myself dancing randomly (which, on second thought, might not be a good thing considering my coordination). I'm acting like one of those annoying, love struck teenage girls. Except I'm not in love with some word-whore boy.
 I'm in love with India and I'm in love with the people I'm going to help.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

things i've always thought about/paranoias

1.) What if life was a dream and dreams were real life? You're reading this right now, but in reality you're sitting in a bed and there are people/creatures by your side hoping you'll wake up soon.  Everything that's weird in your dream is really  just average. It's just a different time, or a different dimension.

2.) This is real. Right now you're in a white padded room: in a straight jacket. Everyone you know, is just a part of your imagination. I'm not real, your mom isn't real. Nothing is real. Other than the fact that you are psycho and a threat to humanity.

3.) What would happen if you went a  year without talking?

4.) What if you have a mental illness, but part of that illness is that you don't know you have one. The reason why no one says anything to you about it is because they've been instructed not to.

5.) (I don't know how to phrase this in the same structure as all the rest, but sometimes I think I'm secretly being filmed.)

6.) When you look into the mirror, the mirror image of yourself memorizes everything you do and how you act. One day, when the mirror image is ready, they will suck you into the mirror and take your place.

7.) Certain sequences of things (such as saying "bicycle" while making yourself a peanut butter sandwich with grape jelly and Lay's potato chips, while the song Transatlanticism by Death Cab for Cutie is playing and it's 3:08 p.m.) will be a secret code for another dimension or people in the future. If you do the right sequence then it opens up to you and you're sucked in. They only did this so it would be easier for them to travel, but they never thought it would happen to a human because the sequence was so precise, but alas. It happened to you.

8.) Suddenly, I will be transported somewhere else. (I especially have the fear of being in the shower and then being transported to a live television show. Or an Insane Clown Posse concert.)

Those are the things I worry about. I know none of them will ever happen (hopefully), but if they did, let's just say. I CALLED IT.
Side note: I did not get the dreams being real life and life the dream from Inception. I had the idea in 10th grade.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Silent Suffering.

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
       he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
       because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
       and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
       and read it to his aunts
That was the year that Father Tracy
       took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
       with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
       Valentine signed with a row of X's
       and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
       he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
       because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
       and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
       because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
      with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
       when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
       his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
       when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
       he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
       because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
       and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
       because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
      of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
       making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
       or even talked
And the girl around the corner
       wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
       but he kissed her anyway
       because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
       his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
       he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
       because this time he didn't think
       he could reach the kitchen.


                      By Dr. Earl Reum