32

i am so excited for summer i'm almost forgetting about spring. it's been nice as hell here lately. i love it when it's rainy or when it's sunny or when it's foggy (the rare few moments it is are incredible to me. i guess people on the northwest coast get sick of it after awhile but it seems like it never happens here in the midwest and i could go for a straight week of fog and never once feel like it wasn't like walking onto a gaseous planet in the solar system or something) or especially when the sky is a big bright blue. bad things happen and they get me down a lot but it's hard to feel bad when the weather is so dang nice.

i lost my job and somebody died young.

022

there's so much in me i can't make sense of, both physically and not, and sometimes i think i should take an anatomy class to understand how everything works but then that would probably just make me think even more. the way things work is wonderful, there's so much connected to everything but i feel like my synapses are always misfiring, i can't say what i mean to say.

i try to get everything out in pictures, but lately there's a disconnect there too. i am tired of everything falling through. i want to be presented an opportunity, no strings attached. i want life to take off. it's about dang time.

school started yesterday and i always like it a lot at first and think i'm never going to miss a class, but eventually i'll start to get bored and distracted --even though now, i swear, i am entirely invested, whole-heartedly and completely, i want to learn. but i also want to run. i want the snow to melt. if i don't get inside an abandoned house soon i'm going to die, i swear i will.

i can't wait for summer. i can't wreck people anymore. i need to get my act together. i need to chill the fuck out.

019

2009 recap post the last sentence or so of the last blog entry and the last picture i posted on flickr for each month of the year
some entries from my old livejournal before i got this blog here




january

i don't like to admit it but some of the time i am horribly, impossibly lonely. i feel nervous and light and watery around other people, i talk too quiet and too fast and my heart beats hard in my chest like a rabbit's.



february

i like my apartment, but, you know. being somewhere new is just horribly entertaining for me even if i'm not actually doing anything. i kindof want to draw a picture. maybe i'll do that. i'm scared.



march

escapism is starting to creep all over me again. i'm spring-loaded, i want to jump from tree branches.



april

it's this thought that's at the back of my mind that's warning me against it, that i should stay in the city longer and be a regular young person with fleeting relationships and searching for meaning in the backs of used bookstores. that i'm not ready to grow up, but i think i am and i can handle it now. still, i'm just afraid.



may

this is still my favorite thing.



june

and i know sometimes i will feel trapped or isolated, i acknowledge that, but i will always try to keep in mind that my heart just gets fluttery sometimes, my muscles get twitchy and anxious to run, and just to keep running won't ever get me anywhere except really out of breath. but that's such a good feeling sometimes.



july

how do you find out if someone is dead?



august

i wish i was a fourteen year old girl. i am so jealous of them all.



september

someone to exchange mix cds with and talk about airplanes and write things on the sides of buildings with, someone who responds instantly, and with rapture--
and someone who is quiet and honest and not someone to have sex with, not even to make out with,
someone who knows things, wonderful, terrible, fantastic things.



october

today is my birthday
it's the first day of the beginning of the end of the world



november

i am just waiting for someone to discover me i guess.



december

you can rely on me honey

003

i left that message in glow in the dark letters on the roof of a building in a forest three summers ago and i went back last week and it was still there. but i couldn't find the canyon i climbed up when i was thirteen, so maybe i made it up in my head, but i swear it was there, and so were all these hollowed out trees you could hide in, and a field at dusk full of fireflies going up. i like what a huge field faraway looks like just when it's starting to get dark, and there's a million fireflies and you understand why they're called lightning bugs, like little zaps and sparks out of every corner of your eye, something tiny and electric in the organic dark. we drove around last night while it was half-raining and found a look-out-point, and big empty fields expanding to a pitch black horizon, and tiny crowded neighborhoods on riverfronts where every single person owns a boat. listening to def leppard and hands reaching out the window.

this summer has been less than epic and i didn't really notice that it's almost over. i didn't even really notice it started. it's been so cold and rainy but i really really like that. i want every summer to feel like the beginning of summer, like june is just starting and i've been hopeful all the time. it's not like last summer which was epic in this sad way, sad in this way that i got hysteric sometimes and i would laugh a lot and not think and see six red foxes in a grey cemetery, slumped against headstones. and then i couldn't wait for it to end, to move on and out and get to the city, and now i sortof miss it, like it was this tiny cute sad chapter of things and i get nostalgic for just about anything. summers especially. maybe i'll just remember this one as calm and sweet and undefined and i'd be okay with that. but maybe it's verging on some hidden epic event, some turning point, something is about to begin.

i like sitting on train tracks and writing secrets on rocks and throwing them, and rickety metal pole playgrounds that aren't safe or made of plastic; forest fortresses and looking up walking distance on google maps from where i am to somewhere i am not. it would take me 27 days and 14 hours to get to portland oregon, 49 days and 3 hours to anchorage alaska. only 4 days and 4 hours to detroit, the great smoky mountains 8 days on the dot. it doesn't seem that long. but it'd take me longer i think because i'd get distracted and stop off the road for so many things and my legs are small. horoscopes are weird, it said my best days for love this month were july 10 and july 18/19. i don't know, i guess i see it.







jessica lea mayfield - for today