Friday, October 28, 2011

Journal Entry

October 28th
Rain fell from the sky today and my thoughts were thoughts of you,
Atop your mountain, my dear, so young and strong and free.
I could see your face tilted towards the grey sky.
So, so alone.
With every drip and every drop I heard you scream,
“The Wild is my home.”

The cold wind touched my face today and I swear I felt your hand,
Playing with my hair, just like you used to do.
Are you now sailing on an untamed sea, my dear?
So, so alone.
With every gust I hear you shout,
“The Wild is my home.”
I walked through the woods today, trying to see them like you would,
You used to speak of the woods with love saying they are fresh and pure, and true.
I can see you, my dear, in the ancient pines, fiery maples, and sapling cedars,
So, so alone.
With every crimson leaf that falls I hear you say,
“The Wild is my home.”

I gathered around a fire tonight with friends we both knew,
The dying embers remind me of your eyes, so sad and wise and wild.
I wished in my heart, my dear, that you were safe and warm,
So, so alone.
With every wisp of smoke I hear you softly sing,
“The Wild is my home”

I climbed a hill today, trying to remember every part of you.
I could feel you all around me, my dear, in the sky and clouds and sun.
Oh wild thing, why did you have to leave and be,
So, so alone?
With every sunbeam I can barely hear you whisper,
“The Wild is my home.”

Thursday, October 27, 2011

why are you shaking like a leaf?

There is always beauty to be found in Today.
Silvery rays of sun splitting silvery clouds.
The warm taste of vanilla on your tongue.
Music stirring your heart as you accomplish the necessary things in life.
The beat of gold and crimson leaves hitting the ground.
Hints of smiles at the corners of your lips.
The smell of a slightly chilly Autumn wind.
Can't you see?
Today can always be beautiful.






Tuesday, October 25, 2011

I was of tender age




Today is:
Late rising

Pink leggings

Large, soft black sweaters

Someone saying "Oh I though you were wearing a cape!" about said sweater as I zoomed past them on my bike.

Coffee.

Getting things done in a relaxed manner.

Hearing people talk about people I know and Family Airplane in Rembrandt's. We're famous!

Cold mornings

Writing

Thinking too much about everything.


and finally, posting a picture that is absolutely un-edited.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Truth


delivered in overwhelmingly adorable packages.
Ah Jenny & Tyler.

(I've had bad luck with embedding videos. So sorry if you can't see the whole thing)

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

it may not always be so


Today is:

Caffe Misto

Iron & Wine

wind, wind, wind

rain, rain, rain

grey, grey, grey

charcoal smudges on my hands...and face

people watching

actually being ahead with my homework

scarf shopping

e.e. cummings

small headaches

a short walk

a rushing river

quiet moments spent with my eyes closed, drinking in the wind



Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Natural and Good


This in my time is the danger. There is great tension in the world, tension toward a breaking point, and men are unhappy and confused.
At such a time it seems natural and good to me to ask myself these questions. What do I believe in? What must I fight for and what must I fight against?
-East of Eden. Chapter 13, Part One.
John Steinback

I woke up yesterday and realized that I don't care about college.
Actually, let me re-phrase that. The things that I am most excited about that are in the future don't involve college. I love to learn and I want to succeed-BUT I'm elated that I'll be done with my undergrad in a little less than three years.
Life for me has already begun, I don't need a degree or a couple letters on a piece of paper or even a husband for it to begin.
I am going to college. So don't fret. But I'm not going to fulfill a life calling or find myself. (I'll always be searching for the latter thing so...) I'm going to further my own skills and to be challenged.
"life after college" is not something I'm afraid of, because in my mind, I'm already there.
I don't know if that makes sense to you. It makes perfect sense to me. But that's most likely because I'm young, I've had too much coffee and not enough sleep, and I rest securely in the knowledge that my life is not my own.



Sunday, October 9, 2011

they heard me singing and they told me to stop


quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock.

today is:
grey sky

climbing a tree just to look at things from higher up

being frustrated with the leveled earth and newly paved road in what used to be my wilderness

taking pictures

being covered in dirt from running down paths, flowers from pushing my way through weeds to make it to the nicest tree in the world, and graphite from drawing for hours on a dusty path in the woods

thinking thinking thinking

arcade fire

the Lord's day


(please click on the image to make it larger. it looks so very nice)

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

thou mayest


I'm currently typing out whole sections of East of Eden so I'll remember them.
I like stumbling on old photographs. I never printed this one (it's a scanned negative) and I regret that.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

you were the only one to know.

Monster by Magic Man.
currently my listening addiction.

tonight is:
sleepytime vanilla tea.
music.
catching up.
finishing books.
no homework.
the sense of accomplishment that only comes after taking a week of exams and turning in projects and giving a speech.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

journal entry

I am a untamed thing tearing through the wilderness. I stumble through the uncharted territory with a zeal characteristic of my age. I want what I should not want. I lust for things I do not need. I know it, he, she, or they will harm me, but I am still chasing. Leaves crackle behind me, in front of me, to my left and to my right.
You are here.
You are hunting me. You are calling me.
You find me in a pit, covered in dirt. The stench of death is on me.
I am filthy and I love it. I fight Your pull. I bite Your hand and strike Your face.
You continue to pull me up from the mire.
You stroke my face as I fight your grasp and whisper "you're beautiful."
My struggling begins to cease as You hold me closer. I begin to object, but You stop me saying "I want you."
I begin to weep saying "but I am smashed to pieces. a useless vessel full of holes. I am only broken parts of what I should be"
You wrap me in peace "I want every broken part. I want to make you new."