Outer Banks.

THE DAY: July 30th 2007
THE TIME: 10:22 PM
THE MUSIC: Slow Dancin in a Burnin Room; John Mayer
THE MOMENT: Beach.

I still have this feeling that pivotal beginnings are on the way, that there is so much in me waiting on its time.

(click to see new journal pages.)

Today I stood with the ocean up to my shoulders, and could see my shadow aside my heels on the seperate world of the sea floor below. I lifted my toes, balancing my body on the surface of the water. The waves flowed through me as I drifted and spun under the clouds... until it was no longer a balance, and I was no longer from a seperate world. My sight, my weight, my yesterdays... all were irrelevant.

I could reach in all directions.

I was the breeze of an African shore,

the smell of simmering alfredo in Italy,

the static of a distant radio,

the slow flowing dance of humanity,

the cyclone of the undiscovered.

All my syllables were perfectly pronounced.

I was truly awake within my saturated sleep.

Alive.

.

MoLT

THE DAY: Friday July 27th 2007
THE TIME: 2:09 AM
THE MUSIC: Amy Hit the Atmosphere; Counting Crows
THE MOMENT: molt.

* * * * * * *

First, a moment with Katie.

Me "Would you want him?"
Kelly "No"
Katie "No... she likes Tyler now."
Katie "Didnt you mack a Tyler?"
Me "Mmmm... no."
Katie "I macked a Tyler... didnt I mack two Tylers?
Wait. Who did I mack two of?"
Me "Mmmm... Preston"
Katie "Oh. Prestons..."

* * * * *

I'm reading this book, its becoming my favorite. Its called Writing Down The Bones. She talks about how, if we allow ourselves to see things naturally, we will think in first thoughts. Instead, we edit and apply logic and end up speaking/writing in 4th and 5th thoughts. So sometimes these days I close my eyes and let my first thoughts speak.

Here it is.

I see two steep grassy hills, almost mountains, and a narrow valley in the middle. There are moons sitting on top of each mountain, my moons. Some are heavy in my mind. The moon from the night I ran away from my Dad. The moon from the night I lay in my driveway because I was scared to run away. The moon from the night I left Utah. The moon from one night early this summer when I stood under the sky on a dark black beach a million miles from everything. All of them are from nights when I was becoming myself. Some I know I would barely remember. Half of these moons are at the top of the left mountain, and half on top of the right. Then they all come down. Some roll slowly, not noticing the others, some come violently crashing. But all are headed for the valley. They meet at the bottom, and just melt into eachother. I'm not sure how, but they form a quiet silvery river. The river fills the width of the valley, and I'm laying at the bottom. Not in a scary way, I don't seem to need to breathe. I am swallowed by the things that are me, and yet I know I am more. I don't know what I'll swim into, I can't do that yet. I just feel the bottom against the side of my face, my toes, and my hip bones, I let myself sink into it a little, let the water swallow me, though I know its not enough to lay in forever.

I've been living inside of this feeling.

Molt:

a. to cast or shed the feathers, skin, or the like, that will be replaced by a new growth.

b. to cast or shed (feathers, skin, etc.) in the process of renewal

I am both renewed and new. In some moments, I run with my change. In others, I let it leave me tossed in its wake.

I can feel it.

I am losing so much.

I know I am strong enough, but that doesn't mean I want to feel that loss.

The speed of it is what scares me.

I've been living inside of this feeling.

Empower Yourself.

THE DAY:JULY 15TH 2007
THE TIME:AROUND SEVEN
THE MUSIC:BLACKBIRD; SARAH MCLAUGHLAN(COVER)
THE MOMENT:MY BEST FRIEND.

Katie took me on another birthday surprise.
Theres pictures up on facebook.(Lame plug, but go look anyway.)
Heres a piece of what happened.
Eventually the directions stopped using road names and started using phrases like "take the gated trail on the left" or "the dam across the pond to the right." I knew a place that would fulfill us would have to include directions like that. We picked the trail. We were going up a small hill when I watched it opening up in my eyes. I ran. It was a field of sunflowers.
It was around 5 o clock, so the flowers were starting to face the ground, even in all of their numbers, all of their yellows, all of their new growth. It was fitting for that day though. In the morning, they would rise to face the sky. I knew it. We twirled. We jumped. We were free.

(that night I told zach I didn’t need him in my life anymore)
There may be no way to make you understand the magnitude of that day in the field. We just knew. My soul is changing. I am expanding in all directions. There is so much space in me. Not the empty kind, just the ready kind. The still, silent strength of a fluid moment. Its like when you dive into a wave, the feeling that comes right after the ocean soaks you up, and ends right before you emerge to the surface. Like driving under an overpass in the rain. The split second on a trampoline where you are neither rising or falling. That was my soul.

THE DAY: jULY 19tH 2OO7
THE TIME: 12:14 aM
THE MUSIC: I need a Boss; Shareefa
THE MOMENT: Bam.

Remember summer boy?
First of all, I want to say that he knew about my Zach past.
Now...
Time to have a small moment together.
Here's a direct quote from a recent conversation.

"Ever since I kissed you, things are different. I feel very replaceable, like I could be any other girl and you wouldn't notice. I can't really give you a specific example of why, but I feel like I may be just your summer makeout girl. Honestly, if you would have caught me a couple of months ago... I would have been fine with that. So if that's what you're looking for, I don't think that's offensive or unforgiveably sleezy. I get it. But, if that is what you want, I need you to be honest with me about it, and then find some other girl girl to be that for you. Because I won't be. Its not enough for me anymore."

R a i s e u p y a ' l l.

And then there was Summer.

THE DAY: July 14th 2007

THE TIME: 1:46 AM

THE MUSIC: Roads; Levi Humble
THE MOMENT: Mine.

You’d pushed me off the precipice, but grabbed my hand just as I was falling away from you, struggling against your self-imposed weakness that kept you from pulling me to safety... yet you wouldn't let me fall away. I saw you above me. I saw the distance below, but not where it led. I’d averted my eyes to every crevice, every haze…I’d studied all that surrounded me. But I could not choose where my release was, until you released me. You were keeping me there for yourself. Yet you never did give your full self to me. You loved me. I know. We were a fire. The kind you can’t hide. We blackened skies. We emblazoned our surrounding air. I know you felt it. There was a glow. I was melted into you. Can you feel me in there? I am hot within you. For a while, don’t try to escape. I am words. I am pictures. I am letters and songs and I am love, the one and only kind. I was yours. I am memories I am slow pulses of your veins I am insomnia I am running footsteps in the night. I am the glowing light of your laptop playlist. I am the numbers on the clock by your bedside. I am the ghost in your sheets. I am the guitar chords whispering into your neck. I am the shaking of your skin. I am the chills in your toes. I am a standing ovation, I am a slow breeze. I am a screammmmmmmm. I am the sunset of your every day. I am yours, but never again entirely, only in whispers, in stale overdue attempts, in old age reverie, in summers later, in slow exhales of reliving. By the time you’re reading this, I will have released myself. And fallen. Strong enough to be ripped by the winds of torrential unsurety. I will be lashed by many more beginnings. But you will be an ending, my ending. Up there watching me recede into the blackness. And then, you’ll lose my sight, you’ll lose our sound, you’ll lose the scent, the feel, … you’ll lose me.

But I will be free.

In the first few hours of Friday, July 13th, I told him he was a never.

(click the picture to see my new journal page)

"And see she flies... and she is everywhere."

--NickDrake

Pcha.

THE DAY: jULY 07,2007
THE TIME: 5:54 PM
THE MUSIC: london bridge; fergie
THE MOMENT: yeah.

"leave me alone, im in control, im in control. and girls act too much, and boys act too tough. enough is enough." ~the strokes

Bahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

banana popsicles!
green fields and fireworks!
swirley twirley dancing...
bare feet summer dress ponytail rainbows spiderman partybeds cheerwine butterytoast for breakfast and brushin your teeth with flavory toothpaste uh huhhhhhhh.

deep breath.

This blog thing needed a change.
Sometimes there is NO space for more more dramatic words.

Clear.

THE DATE:jULY 2nD 2oo7
THE TIME:elevenish
THE MUSIC:warning sign; coldplay
THE MOMENT:

A searching night.

Cooler than most.

Quietly compelling.

Running down a central road in my town, I thought I saw a firefly, and knew I had to find it. -I realize now that I mostly just hoped there was a way that fireflies could still mean the same thing to me as they did two summers ago.-

I tried to keep it in sight, noticing that its glow was un-naturally stationary and rhythmless. The shine belonged to something else. I reached its light and dug through the grass only to find the reflecting remnants of a small orange flag: “CAUTION: CABLE BURIED.” And I thought: “How ironic, I already knew.” Though I was very aware of all my electricity beneath the surface, I pushed forward with a recklessness, running in and out of streetlights against a pulsing weakness.

I turned down an unfamiliar road, goodbye songs blaring in my ears, sloping downhill and yet knowing I was progressing. I saw my sprinting shadow in the tall grass along side me and knew there was not one molecule inside me that was not absolutely fluid. Still, I could not escape myself.

Reaching a stretch of blanketing darkness, I let go of my legs, laying myself down on the concrete. Surging with my own currents, I knew there was no way to be raw enough, to peel away my skin and leave the rhythm of my muddy footprints. In that moment, trapped in my own flesh, bounded by vocabulary, consent, and measurable time… I could find no way to express my core desire for release except to

violently,

repeatedly,

EXHALE.

I have spent my summer, fumbling for sparks.