the one cool night of summer

I felt the craving in the roots of my teeth, in the roots of my hair. The craving to be awake, to run and not let my lungs or my ankles stop me. The prickling pull of sleep pressed into my right eyelid heavily, churned and begged for my fist to rub and rub and rub. The greatest relief is always itching your eye until it feels like your eyeball will be smashed into jelly.

I caressed the cold air by arching my back against it as it slowly creeped into my window. A cold breeze, the smell of the air filtering in through the screen the sweetest smell I know besides that of human skin. I miss smelling the skin of an arm slung over my shoulders in the morning, but tonight I did not miss any person who has held me in that way. I only missed their smell.

In the book I just finished, I knew the twist ending from page one. I knew she was dead the whole time and I waited for the twist to unfurl itself so the rest of the reading world would catch up. In the same way, I knew he would cheat from the first flick of his tongue against my ear lobe. In the same way I know that summer will blessedly melt to fall in what feels like no time at all.

via *

2.26.14

I’ve gotten used to sleeping with my curtains peeled back ever so slightly. I can see a little rectangle of sky when I lay in bed. In the morning the sun nudges my shoulder as I scramble to wake up and start my day. It’s become such a comfort to see my little corner of the sky each night. My black curtains sweep across the entire window, making my room a fortress. But with that small little crack for me to peer up and out of, I can watch the night move and change. I love feeling so small as I lay in my oversized bed. I love feeling so connected even in the detached moments of half sleep.

The best part is the tree. The tree that is sturdy and stable in a way I know I cannot be right now. I can’t explain why seeing that tree makes me less afraid of the dark or why it makes me feel that everything will be ok if I breathe a little deeper. I’m not sturdy. I’m as looped and changing as my record player, singing melancholy song after melancholy song and the gothic clouds mold themselves across the sky and peek at me from behind the arms of my ever present tree.

via *

drive fast, wind in my hair

My favorite place to be in the fall is behind the wheel of my car. Whether I'm alone or with a co pilot, I love leaving the world flying behind my car as I soar through a mountain pass. Ever since I turned 16 I've seen my car as a portal to freedom and a place to go for solace. Winter is hard since I don't want to drive through mountains as much in the snow. It's also essential that these drives have the windows down and that can be quite challenging in the frigid air. Don't get me wrong, I'll do it. It's just not the same as it is in the fall.

I love being brushed by the stinging autumn air while I blast my music, singing until my vocal chords are a tangle in my throat, my lungs burning with release. I like driving in Ogden Canyon. Any canyon really. Give me a place where I can feel alone from people but connected to nature and bonded to the road.

I like seeing the world around me spinning out of control as my mind tries to get a handle on its emotions and thoughts. This month has been a mess and I needed to let go and drive away from life for a while.

It felt nice to escape reality for a while. It's always hard to come back, though. I could just drive on forever.