Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

               I drummed my fingers on the receptionist ’s desk in unease. There was a chemical smell all around me, seeping into my skin. A small brown dog was barking behind me, its owner looking defeated, repeating, “Stop it, Biscuit! Get down!”                “That will be $245.65. How would you like to pay?” the receptionist asked.                I paid the full amount by credit card. I would worry about how I would afford the mounting vet bills later. I looked at my small black cat, Mika, whom I’ve known since I was thirteen years old. She looked up at me innocently with her eerie and beautiful yellow eyes.                “It’s okay, Mika” I petted her and she purred, the tip of her pink tongue lolling out of her lips...

A red cardinal got trapped In a green arboretum Among the lacy fern And blush cacti flowers It flew in a desperation Unique to all animals Who can sense death Then the red cardinal spied A man-made creek With fattened koi A precarious bridge And a cheap Grecian statue So it drank and made  Its prison into a home It learned it can live Off of tiny tangerines Produced in the Asian pavilion And ripened crab apples From North America Soon the cardinal forgot That there was a world it once knew One with sunlight  Dewy earth worms Domestic cats on the prowl The dome glass walls Became its home Is there even a life worth living Outside of them?

I know too many beautiful women who hate themselves. Because they've been taught, from a young age, that their key to success and happiness is in their looks. That their long hair must be cherished, just as men cherish their careers. And not just hair...also nails polished, legs waxed, toes crammed awkwardly into pointy stiletto heels, breasts sweating uncomfortably beneath layers of padding, underwires digging into the skin, leaving pink imprints that stay there long after the bra has been taken off for the night, eyebrows plucked, skin rinsed, face powdered, arms slathered in creams that smell like strawberries. It's hard not to hate oneself when there's so many steps to remember, when walking out of the house is not as simple as walking out of the house, when one must never forget that the world is watching you. Some think that young, beautiful women don't have problems, but I haven't seen a more troubled demographic. We are constantly picking each other apa...

It's weird seeing somebody Somebody you no longer know That you recognize vaguely From the silhouettes in your dreams It's like seeing an alien From another planet, a world That has gone extinct I mourn these fossils I've collected Over the years, one friend here Another there, a soulmate lost From seeing each other everyday To having coffee once a month To catching up once a year Until I become a sad afterthought A rare cameo in your dreams A blot on your subconscious But nothing more It's weird seeing somebody Somebody that mattered The twisted vines of our lives Grew separately, each reaching Towards a different sun Now I no longer matter to you And so you don't matter to me You might as well be dark matter I mourn all friends I've lost All love I've let slip through My fingers like sand Another year has begun I have to bury the fossils Dig them up every few years Just to remember my past And then cover them in sand once m...

Does anyone even keep a blog anymore? No? That's fine. I'm going to share with the world (or the endless void that is the Internet) my top 5 books that I read in 2018, just in case you're wondering what to read next: 5.  Crazy Rich Asians   (2013) by: Kevin Kwan Favourite quote:  "Just because some people actually work for their money doesn't mean they're beneath you." Reason to read this book: It's an awesome beach read, or in the winter, a cozy read by the fireplace that transports you to a crazy world. If you've already watched the movie, it's still worth it to read the book. Kwan is an incredible writer; he gets you hooked on the story from the very beginning and transports you to a world that most of us can't even fathom. It's a world where millions of dollars are spent on frivolous things, like fireworks, and it's also a shallow and sad world, where the richest of the rich judge each other based on the price of one...

A few months ago, I went to get my hair cut at the local shopping mall, and the female hairdresser engaged in some small talk with me. "So do you live in Oakville with your parents?" she asked, as she washed my hair with shampoo. "No, I actually live in an apartment by myself. Well, with my two cats," I answered. "And you can afford it? As a teacher?" she asked, bewildered.  I didn't really know how to respond. I don't think a male teacher would have been asked the same question, and this really irked me. This is just one of the ways in which women are prejudiced against in our society, even in our progressive Canadian one. Entering the workforce and official "adult life" I've been shocked, in 2018, how many difficulties and biases I had to clear up and overcome just because I am 1) a young millennial and 2) a woman.  Another example: When I went to the bank today, the financial advisor asked me no less than 3 times...

I dreamt about a Dalmatian named Frederick  On a Tuesday night, a week or so ago Now I can't stop thinking about his pink tongue Lolling, and his happy tail swinging side To side, and his spotted paws dancing On my carpet I want a Dalmatian named Frederick Because he reminds me of my childhood Of a dog I once knew, who climbed Many stairs to reach a loft on the top floor His snout always joyous, his energy Seeping into the floor, couches, and kitchen Of course, that Dalmatian is long gone As is the energy that he summoned With his barking and whining And chomping food from the bowl Why did I dream about a Dalmatian named Frederick? Could he be a returning ghost Of a life long forgotten? When I collected all the plastic figurines From 101 Dalmatians, back when They came with the nuggets in the Happy Meal The Dalmatian brings back an innocent time He's all I can think about This spotted dog luring me into his world For one day he will meet my children An...