Brains!

Often times when I think the worst about things, I imagine hands slipping out of each other. I need to create these hands that pass across my vision. I mean to say that I need to draw it, hang it.

I miss Humboldt. I often wonder about why. It was freedom I suppose. I often fancy the life of a recluse, the distance facilitating the avoidance of obligations. But at the same time, I think back to the unhappiness that went along with it. Maybe I just miss the people and the scenery I wonder what that it means to miss places you’ve lived in life? I want to move a lot and know.

I’m pretty sure I’m an empty shell most days. Until the wind changes, and the sea washes something along. It’s occurred to me that I don’t want Jordan to know that I’m more of a romantic slob then I seem. I like to project a tom boy exterior, but really on some days that empty shell houses coral, crimson and even scarlet flesh longing for fire and intensity and passion. I want to stagger under someone’s gaze. And it seems it has always been on the edge for a while now, I haven’t been knocked down by weak knees, I haven’t felt butterflies bouncing off my tummy walls. Sometimes I miss the beauty so much, but I can’t even remember what it felt like. No warmth, no blooming, no brushes. I really am a silly girl…no matter how much I try to not be.

The moss has grown heavy on the stone, damp and dark under burning blue irises.