up in the woods.

my lover, the wind, plays with my hair as my feet which will travel the world take me nowhere in particular. suddenly my fists hold all the energy in the world and all i can do is breathe deeply to let the rush flood my veins till it spills out the tips of my hair, and this is everything. one day, my love and i will meet in the middle; love is equal, and love is safe. guitar strings click in the silence and darkness falls like the universe's eyelid and i am up in the woods and on a direct route to haphazard and for once in my life i love it and i cannot get enough. slowly my chest fills with the feeling that the dark has come and knowledge makes my head heavy because i know i will become lost in it which is something i've always wanted but feared and hated all at once and the energy returns and i am pushing myself forward because the dark has become night and i am alone with the streetlights and they don't want to see me. i want to be lost. but my heart wants to be found and held so the darkness will not take it too. at twilight my soul met my body and they danced until i didnt feel so lost because heaven is a place and energy is a visceral and tangible reality that culminates in nothing but words on a page but it feels like heaven. which is a place. but i am here, up in the woods, where no one sees me but the streetlights and no one would know i was gone for a day or so until my soul had left the earth and my body lay in the woods. after that there would be no more dancing except for the woods whose branches sway in the occasional breeze that is night and moon and anticipation of the end coming. the branches tease my face, the shell of my soul, and my body walks on till the inevitable morning.

these are my choice notes.

sitting on the beach was one of the best moments i've had all summer. glen arbor is absolutely gorgeous... the stones on the beach, the grainy sand, the ribbons of color in the water. the temperature was perfect. complete separation from everything was the perfect therapy. now i am back, i have to deal with the boy situation, which sucks. and hear about working out and dieting and being better and all that shit. which i give in to... frequently.

both my siblings are in relationships. both seem like their lives are going to be figured out. predictable career paths, staying local. and what the fuck am i doing? singing? moving? resting on potential? i dont know.

i want to move out of my house into an apartment all by myself so i can stop worrying about everything im "supposed" to be doing. i need to learn what really makes me happy regardless of outside pressures. and i need to learn to be happy for people for what they have. i need to write and be alone... because it felt really good.

"stop telling me what i need to do. i will figure it out."

a fact.

it makes me sad. that i cannot feel without hurting another

something so internal

turned into a storm of spite

i want to make it all easy

but usually it gets worse.

not poetry

just something undeniable

churn.

all of it was beautiful

until the storm hit

then every piece of "unwanted" floated to the

surface

hitting our feet

lingering between our toes

but the boy once had a touch of destiny about him

part of me cares less

my young self could live in a mobile home

if it had windows and a grand piano

he laughed at art

but i will give him the chance

his thought has not crawled

under my skin

and that worries me

for him

for her

for me--the afterthought

but the trash has floated up from the surface

leaving takes time

to kill a mockingbird.

for the sake of experience i will watch my life (once together and somewhat whole) fall.

to push my boundaries for the sake of feeling my world expand, i suppose. the world is

challenging me, but i will shrug it off and wait for

"experience" to knock on my door.

i suppose am playing hard to get with experience.

life is merely many strings woven together, some more memorable than others.

as if through a camera lens, or perhaps a picture frame,

i watch myself fall slowly

beautiful disaster

like my daddy told me

like my mother didn't scold me

and my gut forced me

to take the leap onto hard desire--but not different than

expected. expectations.

and i hear them murmuring downstairs, even though i think im doing pretty well.

asking me to leave, then holding me back with their big hearts and fragility,

while i am the one breaking.

smart or carefree?

living or existing?

i will watch the pieces slowly fall as i scramble to pick them up so i can throw them down.

letting go while my heart holds on

a coming of age novel

ah... relax, dammit.

dealing with said worried feelings with a home-pedicure from a janky kit my mother probably received as a compensation gift from the mother of an ADD student. this kit had the intention of relieving my mother's stress from said child's obnoxious behavior. alas, unused.

my feet are currently delved ankle deep into an old bucket from my basement since we don't have any "foot baths" (since we are frisian and don't believe in relaxation) and since no one in my house takes baths because we are too tall (because we are frisian). this bucket from the basement was worth it though. and not just because i had to walk in on my brother and his new girl friend making out (IIIIII am the one who is older... shouldn't i be making out with someone???), but also because my feet are going to smell delicious and dammit i will relax if its the last thing i do.

subconsciously, i believe that this will make me more attractive. as if any one gives a damn what my feet look like if i have boobs.

its official, by the way. i am leading on 2 separate boys and am not interested in either. mostly i am putting these situations off, but i still worry about them. its summer... i dont want to worry. some would say its my fault. but how can i help it if they mistake enthusiasm for interest? honestly.

feet are pretty pruney. i feel like bridget jones <3. all i need is some wine... the dream. take it back. a male italian masseuse who will also feed my chocolate. that is all i need.

welp. relaxation is more difficult than you would think. my feet are losing feeling because they are too big and frisian for this janky little bucket.

complete. ish. i will now continue to cover my nails in a delicate pink. my favorite color. ?

when worry came to visit.

greetings, worry. like nerves, kind of... but no promise of relief after you've drank enough water and finished your song. just a feeling that does not go away with reasonable thinking, unlike nerves.

why am i worried? money. yeah, i know tuition discount, blah blah blah. this doesnt mean that i havent worked my ass off every summer since 15 in preparation for the next few years when i will be living paycheck to paycheck to cover rent, insurance, and food.

the future. girls at the campus store love to talk about weddings, of all things. the dresses, flowers, rings... not only does my honeymoon sound so much more appealing, and i would be less nervous to sing in front of 50,000 people than stand in front of everyone i know done up like a barbie in order to commit my life to one person, but i dont even know what kind of person i mesh with. i've dated a few, wished for others... and it hasn't felt remotely "right" yet. "but you've had lots of boyfriends!" yes. i have. this doesnt mean i trusted them with my heart or believed they could really love me.

my career? laugh at me, sure. but you have to settle down sometime. what is my future riding on? auditions: seeing if i fail or not. lovely. thats a great feeling. if that doesn't happen, go to grad school or find some job that will take psych majors. or lose 20 pounds, get my ass in a tanning booth, dye my hair blonde, and become a trophy wife. a viable option.

i know, i am blessed. but i hate not having control. i NEVER worry about the future. it seems futile. but today, i feel like i am losing it.