{"id":1162,"date":"2012-03-21T12:10:20","date_gmt":"2012-03-21T12:10:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/?p=1162"},"modified":"2015-03-26T07:13:00","modified_gmt":"2015-03-26T07:13:00","slug":"seattle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/seattle\/","title":{"rendered":"Seattle"},"content":{"rendered":"

by Morgan Sagdahl<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

Let\u2019s wish we could find a way to make coffee and fingernails sound poetic. I want to write about the paint on my clothes and the smell of smoke absorbed by my skin. The holes in the soles of my feet and the holes in my mind, but I can\u2019t find a reason to write in the dark. It\u2019s much scarier under beautiful stars when you realize you\u2019re in a city, an alleyway of broken windows and broken hearts laid out neatly in the dust of dirty thoughts and suicides. There will come a day when Starbucks aprons are believed to be a sign that multiple gods exist in our atmosphere when Microsoft stops autocorrecting the I before E rule and \u201cI\u201d no longer needs to be capitalized like God does. I believe dead spirits that walk among us in the bodies of the depressed.\u00a0 Stumbling outside reality in a cloud of unhappy until they master a way to find artsiness in the darkness. They can hear themselves breathing, but can\u2019t decide whether they should hold their breath in to retain life until it evaporates as nothing from their lungs or if it\u2019s better to let white noises crawl under their skin until they\u2019re crazy. The people here are crazy. Driven mad by stop signs and running through red lights until they\u2019ve reached a destination of uneasiness. How he knows he never really loved her because the poetry he wrote when they were together was shit. We\u2019re show-offs to cover insecurity. Cheering hard for losing baseball teams and avoiding ignorance. We never lose hope and that\u2019s where our music comes from. The one thing we deserve to take pride in. That\u2019s soul burning down our esophagus until it warms us in the depths of stomach acid. It took a lot of time on Google Images, searching for pictures of physical deformities to learn that not everyone is born with two eyes, not everyone is everyone else\u2019s idea of human. Where we rip the seams in our rain jackets as an early weather forecast hoping the sun will peak through the clouds we\u2019ve created with wrist pollution. Where we say \u201cfuck\u201d too much and \u201clove\u201d like it\u2019s sacred. Where we believe pop cans and soda bottles and newspapers and microwave dinner boxes deserve a second life through recycling. We\u2019re superstitious. We use eyes to see into souls and window reflections make us nervous with the anticipation of seeing someone we don\u2019t want to look at, we don\u2019t trust, so as a result some of us stop trusting in God. All we\u2019ve known to have grasp of is the sidewalk in which we walk to reach places we\u2019ve never been, but we never venture too far for that would mean chance of facing unacceptance and non-hipsters. We believe that wearing t-shirts with skulls on them makes us brave \u2018cause it\u2019s a scary thought that the only place you\u2019ll ever feel safe is in the lap of your mother. So as Seattlites we search for Mother Nature in everything. We just want to be hopeful. We just want to be happy. We just want to be. We\u2019re trying to find the light. Where social status is decided by how many rings are on your fingers and how clean your dreadlocks are. How much makeup can you go without and still be beautiful? Be organic. So we smile crooked-teeth and let our fingernails grow yellow between cigarettes as we say welcome to the city, welcome to Seattle. Here, we do art.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

by Morgan Sagdahl Let\u2019s wish we could find a way to make coffee and fingernails sound poetic. I want to write about the paint on my clothes and the smell of smoke absorbed by my skin. The holes in the … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":40,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[23,11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1162","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2012-edition","category-previous-editions"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1162","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/40"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1162"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1162\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1248,"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1162\/revisions\/1248"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1162"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1162"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/studentweb.bellevuecollege.edu\/belletrist\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1162"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}