26 December, 2011

I've been avoiding you...

The worst part is I've been avoiding me. I haven't written here (really written) in AGES and it's been just as many months since I've written (really written) in my own journal. I don't know if it's that I feel like I don't have anything to say or that I just don't know how to say it. That's a lie. I do know. I think it's both.

So many of the thoughts in my head have been blasting themselves megaphone loud that in an effort to keep my head from exploding I've done a pretty good job of silencing them out. The trouble with this is that they still remain there. They've become this dream-like phenomenon as though I'm watching the telly on mute. I can still see the lips of these thoughts moving as though they're trying to tell me something but I'm deaf to what that might be.

Slowly but surely I'm figuring it out again. I've learned over time that there's a delicate balance to how much I post here versus how much I write in my journal. Not just because there are some thoughts that are just too fragile to post all over the Internet, but also that if I write it here (or there) there's only a 50% chance that I'll transpose the same thoughts into the other. It's a frustrating balance because I have such a freedom with my paper journal but also really want/need to just talk to someone about what's going on inside my head. I've had this blog since 2005, but I've had a serious journal since I was 12. Both are extremely hard to walk away from... So I just can't. I have to try to juggle both!

Anyway, that's a thing that's happening.

I've been pretty consistent about writing poetry this past week. I had a dark day (hadn't since written June) but I think I might be back on track again. If you'd like to follow along please do: http://takeastrollwithme.wordpress.com

Talk soon.

xoxo m

21 June, 2011

21.06.2011_young sailors

blow in, bright breeze from shores afar
and tell of where the young sailors are
for whence they went they have not come
and rough, the sea is mute and dumb

the stars dip down and touch the waves
and echo their reflection, grave
in their faces does reflect
this new, new world and it's defect

when morning dawns and breaks the day
the caves have nothing more to say
for our good luck of treasured gold
the men before have sold their souls

19 April, 2011

it almost feels like summer

I let the screen door open today to air out the apartment. It almost felt like summer was waiting just on the doorstep, waiting to be asked in. Oh how I wanted to call to it and say "Come in, Summer! Come in and take me away to your deep, glowing sunsets and warm, whispering breezes!"

It wasn't just any summer feeling... it was the same feeling of summer I got when I knew my sister and I would be packing our bags, loading up my blueberry blue Jetta and taking off for a weekend all on our own. When we drove just to drive.

That was such a feeling. I remember feeling so free, so in control and so in charge of what I was doing. I had a plan and everything was going to be okay.

We listened to Owl City nearly the whole drive down to Oregon that summer. Somehow Owl City always seems to get into my heart and make me forget about the reality around me - like everything will be okay.

I've been needing that lately. A long drive to just drive. Laughing, crying, listening to Owl City. I know it may sound foolish, but when I think about how things are right now, just the thought of driving and never looking back consoles me.

Thanks for listening. And if Summer comes knocking at your door, let it in.


09 April, 2011

I love my cat

Isn't she just beautiful?
I think she's such a sweet little thing.

sometimes she's a little brat and she HATES getting her toenails clipped, but it has to be done!
in the morning she likes to snuggle up half on my pillow half on my chest.
she nestles in under my chin in the sweetest way and just sighs herself to sleep.

my sweet, sweet Sage.

25 August, 2010

25.8.2010_moonlit mend

hello again my moondrop friend
drip, drip, drop
hello again my moonlit mend
kiss, kiss, plop