get 'em.

Don't look back, you're not going that way. 

 

 

drained

Not that I have any real reason to be, aside from a terrible sleep schedule. My body has been aching from sitting at my desk all day drawing and ideating new projects. If it wasn't 9 pm I would make coffee, take a Breaking Bad intermission, then peruse more blogs and gather concepts. But it's looking like I might be just catching an episode then going to bed. Every so often, mornings are my jam. I will wake up and get out of bed (almost) right away, with much more vigor than usual. Put on the coffee, stretch out on the back porch.. mm. Tomorrow. Tomorrow it is. 

 

self-control

i'm trying to get better at it.

because discipline, humility, and self-development never hurt anyone. i'm surrounded by ideas, ideas for ideas, future projects, potential, things to read, words floating in the ether above my head waiting to be snatched and put together. i'm 22 years old. i'm not supposed to know what i'm doing entirely. i'm supposed to be restless. it's energy that defines my generation. 

changing what i demand of myself will propel my body and mind into becoming what i aspire. i'm very much a go-with-the-flow type, because spontaneity and adventure make the magic seem all much the more real. but i think it's finally getting through to me that discipline and direction will provide things that i also won't expect. having expectations will get you only so far (yet, the places you go will satisfy some sort of need). 

channeling something powerful. 
"be careful with each other, so you can be dangerous together"

i just want to be together. 

something about paul and art

the poets that sing my absent-mindedness
somehow my body changes
i have no control over the sensation,
only the reaction
of the molecules, nerve endings, fingertips

the coffee's too hot to drink
the cobblestones in my mind's avenue
somehow appeal to your drowsy footsteps

the colors are soft
the insects, immobile
the curtain, rustling
unnoticed
except by the
girl at the wooden table
gazing upon the tapestry created
by the tree limbs down the road


[edit: not more than hour after i wrote these thoughts, snapping thunder and lightning and a brief interlude of heavy raindrops surprised us all. late summer thunderstorms surge in my mind and memory as one of my favorite things. electric movement, i think, made my fingertips and brain connect.]

i've been creating a home in my mind

 

building walls and bookshelves and poetry in kitchens and backyards

 

a must.

soft / ours

dangling legs / the dog's bark

open doors / light leaks

baking bread / a wood stove

coffee steaming / the smell of forest green

lavender / bodies

ours 

a closet, somewhere

 

thigh high socks = yes

 

time to start working out.

freakin' ScarJo.

when you know

you know. 

 

time to get the act together

time to mend

time to create something new

time to begin taking care of myself better

time to celebrate the successes

 

 

write

soon i'll begin writing.