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i woke up this morning with a need to walk in the heat. to burn the skin off the bottoms of my feet because i feel as though the thoughts in my brain and the meat on my ribs and the beats in my heart don't add up to anything of significance. i write letters in my head to myself about feeling more alive and skinning my bones so that the sky can clean me good, but i prefer it that i remember myself the way i'm waking up, glued to the sheets with salt and dreams that talk in a language i can't decipher.

and i'm running on because this runner up is pushing the moon down my throat so as to clog up my breath and say Come clean and peel your dreams off your sheets. Run forward and plant some seeds in your ceiling. I'll lay there to grow.

and then i wake up again, but this is later in the day, and i read some words about how i've loved and these days years and years agon made my heart fill with blood. and i open my eyes and i hear some breath. and words singing about stories.

i wish today i was at sea because its such a pattern and rhythm and all of me is better in that. but the sand gets in my nails and i can't pick it out fast enough to ignore the signs that maybe its better there to begin with. its a part of the earth. as am i, and it roots me to it as i drink in water and let go of my own arms. i'm thirsty. i'm hungry for something to fill me up again. and i've never been the way i was. that once. but love and love and luck and lust and a whole lot more don't add up to being full as i want. need.

and it makes me feel small to stand in my window where the men can look and cannot feel but i can feel and i see a tree. and a contest and a place to sit and think and to become or come. and so walk and sit are two things.
and water and air fill me up.

and sand grounds me and i dig my feet in to the heat and i feel my head and my ribs and my heart all in my body and i feel my breathing. and i will wake up again to see my sheets fighting against my body.
to challenge me
to say what i need to say.

do you remember when?
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its about time i start writing again.  its such a renewal, a rejuvination.  its cleansing.  it used to be that i could not go one day without writing down some sort of feeling that i had, some thought, some ache or pain or joy.  where has that gone? 
9 days ago was the mark of my 19th year. i wish i could say that i am proud to be who i am, but for some reason i spend my days searching.  i am in search of the missing link between my head, my heart and my soul.  19.  i remember the year i was turning five. i absolutely, most definitely could not wait.  i was lying on the ground underneath the dining room table and begging my mom to make that day, right then, my fifth birthday. five was the epitome of grown up, in my eyes. in my youth. i mean, five meant kindergarten. and man! kindergarten was huge!

five came and went. then six, then seven.  those were the days when everything was carefree.  i loved school, i loved drawing pictures and little pet crushes. i loved math blocks and spelling and even multiplication tables.  i would have a chocolate milk carton everyday. my best friend in second grade would have a packed lunch two days a week, and if i remember correctly, this was on tuesdays and thursdays.  we would eat our lunches separately on those days, since most of the time i would have hot lunch.  anyway, back to the milk carton. on the days we would have hot lunch together, i remember it was some kind of trend to shake up the chocolate milk real fast and real hard and then drop it on the floor.  everyone was doing it.  now i think back, and i see the light in our eyes, as we were thinking that this was as great as life got. 

for many years, probably post age 12, i have contemplated my place on this earth. i have always been a thinker and a dreamer.  i am optimistic and quick in my desisions.  if i have learned one thing over these seven years, it is that i will never again forget the importance of shaking up my milk carton and throwing it on the ground.  just for the sheer joy and excitement that kind of thing brings.

to me, life is simple.  i just complicate it.  we love and we get loved.  that is the backbone and the driving force of human kind. and we even see those trends in the animal kingdom.  my dog loves me and she waits and waits for me to pet her to show her love for the day.  life is simple. 19 years of age, and i am still searching for something when i think it has been staring me in the face my whole life. we love and we get loved.  that is the missing link,  because without love, there is no joy. love is an innate feeling. simple as it is, i find people more and more challenging themselves on the concepts.  when really, we love and we get loved.  that is all.
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i met you by accident on purpose, one of those faulty deals that fall through the cracks.  it was something important....i looked to the sky and wished on a star.  i remember.  something in my dreams.  i said i hope.  i said i dream....on stars shooting in the sky. injection. interjection. of my heart.  the one,  the one.  outside, i was a dream.  outside, its crisp and wet and a plane of straight roads which lead to no where. 
one day i wish. one day, stapled together. one day printed. on my skin, its a diagram of words said.  gardener. thumbs. walking in curvy lines....just to feel the blood rush to my head.  you have the key.  its a constant reminder...its a constant walk.  these straight roads with,

a line in the middle. separate;

I have been debating with myself the possibilities of my future.  Big old deal!  You know, cuz that's what I'm always doing.  I am always changing my mind and improving things...taking things away, improvising, adding, twisting.  But this, this the the rest of my life, per se. 

Fast approaching is the year and a half anniversary of me and my love.  It sometimes feels as if I am cheating by saying that, because more than half of our entire relationship has been spent 200 miles apart from each other.  But you know what?  This, in retrospection, will be a growing experience like all others in life.  We have been through thick and thin.  We have conquered an obstacle that most people would have seen one glimpse of and walked away.  We started this long distance thing with not much stability, because before all this...everything was so innocent.  We weren't so in love and ready to spend the rest of our lives together.  We have grown into that with distance.  We have grown farther...but also closer.  If we had been faced with such a task one month earlier, I honestly don't believe that we would have even attempted.

We've watched each other change. We've grown up.  We've had a lot of firsts.  We've made mistakes, we've felt pain and sorrow and we've felt joy and commitment and a deep and loyal love.  He is my best friend, I am his.  He is the person, that when I look beyond now and into my future...I can see it.  I can see this with 100% clarity.  Maybe this is naevity.  Maybe this is me setting my every hope and dream on something too high.  But you know what...most days, I don't give a fuck.

I am always questioning myself and the stability that I am capable of holding for myself.  I am always being questioned.  I am a really black and white all over the place kind of girl.  I like the things in my life to be the way I want them to be...but I change my mind a whole lot about those things.  I think that this man, wow! what a word, is the one thing that I can fully count on to be consistent in my life.  I believe in him.  I believe in us, as two people working together towards one ultimate goal in life.  I am terrified of what may come...because that is scary stuff.  Making decisions, at my young age, for the rest of my life is scary.  And that is something that is  scary in any context.  It was scary to make the choice to move 200 miles away...and then, it really wasn't even a matter of him, it was a matter of if I could handle living in a house without my mom by my side.  That is questionable.  I still call her 10 times a day.

So here is the real deal. The conflict, the paradigm.  In four months, I could have it all.  I could have the life I have been dreaming up for 10 months.  I could have him by my side each morning, I could call him up and meet him for coffee, he would be there to fix my lightbulbs....take the garbage out.  I can have it.  My dream. Come true.  But is this what I want?  Do I really want to make this decision that could be the make or break decision of the rest of my life?  Maybe I want some chaos.  Maybe I want to fuck up a few more times.  Maybe I want to be independant and learn some more about me.  Maybe I just want to be able to sit down a write a paper for class...instead of this contemplation.  But maybe, just maybe, I am ready for this.  This is the rest of my life, and for the first time in my life, I don't have any clue how to fix it.
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so, i guess i started this journal as a place to get myself into writing down my feelings again.  i've always been sort of afraid of sharing myself with others...i guess, in a sense, self concious.  though i am not really so.  i guess it is just the fact that writing things down is so permanent and scary.  and that is intimidating to me.  so this is anonymous, for my own benefit, so i can talk about the things in my everyday life.  so i can say the things that i would like to say about everything that happens to me. 

friends only. comment to be added, if you wish.  i am just using this a diary of sorts, i suppose.
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