Sep 22, 2014
0 notes

Send out for whiskey, baby, send out for gin. Me and room service baby, ME AND ROOM SERVICE MOMMA!

I’m staying at a friend’s apartment in Oakland, where it feels busy and peaceful and new and familiar all at once, and the windows open onto the boughs of a great big redwood tree. I miserably failed not one but two interviews, and realized that I don’t love my profession enough to even really care. I listened to about six versions of “The Blues Run the Game” and managed to fingerpick exactly none of them. The highlight of my month maybe was reading The Sun Also Rises at Drake’s Beach in Point Reyes and knowing that nobody knew I was there. It would be that easy, too, to just keep on driving. I never knew my own heart was capable of so much disappointment in itself.  Right now Adam and the cat are asleep on the rug. Adam has a fever and feels very warm and I watch them breathing.

I don’t want to close down, I want to open up. 

Sep 15, 2014
0 notes

On the Agenda

- German 1

- Tiny House plans and continued savings towards this end (provided I am employed soon. If I don’t go back to school, this will be the next Tangible Endeavor)

- Continued gym activity, git stronger

- Hardly Strictly Bluegrass

- Juniper Camping

- Climbing when possible

- Catsitting/Oakland-crashing until I sign a lease

- New Mexico OR BUST in November

- Grad school apps? (I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SAYING THIS AGAIN)

Sep 12, 2014
3 notes

I missed blackberry season this year. Not a single ruby plucked from the vine, thorns in my forearms and thighs, nor the satisfaction of walking home in the slanting light to exactly the place you need to be. These new autumn days are full of unease, the slowest, most drawn-out spinning out. I need a force to overcome that circular inertia called wishful thinking. Angels come down from heaven, when I ask for them to let me know they’re there. My beloved blackberry/My love for you floats free/Leave yourself in sound and turn around/Sing me your blackberry song.

Sep 10, 2014
1 note
Rovinj, Croatia. Land of figs, clotheslines, and feeling comfortably far enough away. 

Rovinj, Croatia. Land of figs, clotheslines, and feeling comfortably far enough away. 

Jul 26, 2014
259,191 notes

captainstormwind:

the truth is out there.

The infinite universe

(Source: shadow-over-anjira, via oolongs)

Jul 25, 2014
25 notes

theroamer:

It’s been a long time on my own.

Jul 25, 2014
65,023 notes
excdus:

Super snowy Harajuku at 2am on Valentine’s Day night 2014.
(source)

excdus:

Super snowy Harajuku at 2am on Valentine’s Day night 2014.

(source)

(via smogggy-deactivated20140913)

Jul 23, 2014
0 notes

August 2014: Europe in Leisure

Copenhagen///Berlin///Prague///Munich///Rovinj///Como///Annecy///Alsace///Cologne///Hamburg///Copenhagen///USA

image

I’m gonna feel like a super amateur touring noise band, yea!! Anyone have any recs?

Also I’m so anxious about the whole thing that I may not actually make it to the airport, but I’m trying to be optimistic here, hypin’ it up.

Jul 23, 2014
32 notes
I don’t smoke no cigarette, I don’t drink no alcoholI ain’t had much loving yetBut that’s always been your call.Hey I don’t miss it babyI got no taste for anything at all

I don’t smoke no cigarette, I don’t drink no alcohol
I ain’t had much loving yet
But that’s always been your call.
Hey I don’t miss it baby
I got no taste for anything at all

(Source: thewriteronthestorm)

Jul 18, 2014
3 notes

I did get a bike yesterday! It’s a lil thumper learner bike, 1971 Honda SL 125 Enduro. However it died on me so fast that I couldn’t even really take a picture first, and taking pictures of a dead bike is shameful. The price was really right and included some problems: blew a fuse after 20 min of riding (although it ran great for test rides) probably resulting from a shot stator overloading the voltage. It runs fine with a new fuse but there’s no telling for how long it will. The front suspension is also shot, it’s fine for smooth pavement but not cool for off road at this point. Also the kicker is fucked beyond measure, and it needs a new fuel line (easy). NEVERTHELESS, it’s a good feeling to have a bike and now I have concrete things to learn about and do.

Jul 18, 2014
1 note

Tonight I’m staying up as late as I can. The wind’s blowing now and the owls are quiet, and I’m alone. That’s the way he wanted it to be.

Truth be told, I barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. Isn’t that a cliche? I go through the motions every day. I don’t call my friends and I am seeing them fall away one by one. I never thought my heart would be so decentralized, so inconceivably lost. 

And in the skies above Ukraine, a plane explodes. I’m going to stay awake until my eyes burn until it’s definitely tomorrow, until I can lay it all to rest.

Jul 7, 2014
109 notes
From my favorite desert space parka Willie photo shoot

From my favorite desert space parka Willie photo shoot

(Source: winding-tree, via fuckyeahwillienelson)

Jul 3, 2014
1 note
1500 miles to the Puget Sound and back, to the Rogue River, through the driest California. Past the three peaks: Shasta, Hood, Rainier. Sitting with an old friend on a Washington State beach as she told me about the island forests across the water, the warm sand like the sweetest salve on my skin. I have beautiful people in my life, that’s for sure. And so much sweet pea flowering it could fill up the near-empty Shasta basin. 1500 miles, and not an inch closer to you, who is eternally 1 million miles away. There is another hole in my heart that I must work to fill now- with sweet pea, river water, constellation maps.

1500 miles to the Puget Sound and back, to the Rogue River, through the driest California. Past the three peaks: Shasta, Hood, Rainier. Sitting with an old friend on a Washington State beach as she told me about the island forests across the water, the warm sand like the sweetest salve on my skin. I have beautiful people in my life, that’s for sure. And so much sweet pea flowering it could fill up the near-empty Shasta basin. 1500 miles, and not an inch closer to you, who is eternally 1 million miles away. There is another hole in my heart that I must work to fill now- with sweet pea, river water, constellation maps.

Jun 27, 2014
0 notes

The Water is Wide

The water is wide; I cannot cross over. Neither have I wings to fly. Build me a boat that can carry two, and both shall cross-  my true love and I.

There is a ship and she sails the seas. She’s laden deep, as deep can be. But not so deep as the love I’m in, and I know not if I sink or swim.

I lean my back against an oak, thinking it was a mighty tree. But first it bent, and then it broke. So did my love prove false to me. 

I put my hand in some soft bush, thinking the sweetest flower to find. I pricked my finger to the bone and left the sweetest flower behind. 

Oh love is handsome, and love is kind. Bright as a jewel, when it is new. But love grows old and waxes cold, and fades away like morning dew.

The water is wide; I cannot cross over. Neither have I wings to fly. Build me a boat that can carry two, and both shall cross- my true love and I.

Jun 26, 2014
3 notes
Today, in the Mausoleum under my favorite building in the world, I saw a vault inscribed simply with four kind words: "Beloved, I am home."

Today, in the Mausoleum under my favorite building in the world, I saw a vault inscribed simply with four kind words: "Beloved, I am home."

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