Undulating Through This Wide Galaxy: Undulating: Moving in a Smooth Wavelike Motion

By Hazel Mamaril

I write because its my only way in. Its my only way into the
world and into people. While it maybe true that my words are
too small for this galaxy, they still go beyond what pictures and
other forms of art cannot describe, so I use them as my weapons
as I undulate through the expanding space.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483674735

Hazel Mamaril

Hazel was born and raised in a small city beside the ocean. She started writing for her school paper in 6th grade after being caught by her history teacher passing poems around class. The incident made her realize that words were her best friend and she pursued writing ever since. When she turned 13, she moved with her family into a city that cries itself to sleep. She has a slight obsession with stars and bunnies. An active blogger and a spoken word poet, Hazel tries her best to nurture and tend the words living beneath her skin.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Hazel Mamaril.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4836-7472-8

                  Ebook         978-1-4836-7473-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 07/31/2013

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Contents

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Introduction

Bluebird

Regarding My Birth

Moving to Canada

Abandoned Poem

For My Best Friend: On The Subject Of Who We Are

A Nightmare

Your Lips

Inner Conflicts

A Set of Instructions For My Sister

A Verbatim

A Writer in Photography Class

Written Under a Candle’s Light

Late Nights With Coffee

Lost

Heart Breaks

My Childhood Home

Chained

On The Account of The Boy Who Doesn’t Exist

Let Me Love You A Thousand Ways

Light-Years

From High Above The Ferris Wheel

Wonderful World

Unearthed

From Vancouver to San Francisco

A Note

Look

Might As Well Dream All Day

Child of The Universe

It Was Snowing During English Class

Poets And The Rain

On Account of the Boy Who Turned Poems Into Songs

When I Vanished

When I Think Too Much

But The Letters Kept Coming

Now Comes The Truth

Under a Sycamore Tree

On The Account of The Boy Who Kissed Me Under The Stars

Farewell

For my dearest baobei—

Because we’re both scared, angry and alone.

I love you infinitely.

Introduction

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I have been asked the question many times now, and my answer remains the same each time I am interrogated.

Hazel, why do you write?

I write because it’s my only way in. It’s my only way into the world and into people. While it maybe true that my words are too small for this galaxy, they still go beyond what pictures and other forms of art cannot describe, so I use them as my weapons as I undulate through the expanding space.

Writing helps me explain the mechanics of love, grief, sadness and happiness. It helps me describe every heart-biting emotion, every wrecking moment, every beautiful song and every lovely boy with so much precision and detail, that the words feel as though they are alive and breathing in my paper at a rate that echoes the beating of my heart.

I know that I am far from magnificent, but the closest I ever gotten to being one is through my words. I was not born with an extensive vocabulary, but I know syntax and I have stories to tell, so writing became my door