i'm walking a straight but not fine line downtown trying not to stare awkwardly into anyone's eyes but trying too hard to look strong. sometimes i just want to sit down and cry, maybe break, but instead i have to throw it to the wind.

i'm so tired. i just want to take ten steps back and sit down.

"so be it, i'm your crow bar. that's what i am so far.. till you get out of this mess."


we're walking home and the sun is setting casting a pink glow over your skin and mine, and you turn to me and say, "what if.." and i silence you with a kiss because it makes me tired to think of the problems that may arise. you are asleep in my bed and i'm laying on the floor staring out the window at the pink sky that's quickly disappearing, and i begin to think "what if tomorrow this is gone.." and suddenly i realize that you may be the only thing that could make me believe in heaven and i crawl into bed with you and hold on for dear life.


i believe

i believe in love. i believe in daydreaming during every quiet moment. i believe in losing yourself, to find yourself again. i believe my little brother is going to have a lot less heartache, and be stronger. i believe in days dedicated to green tea, long naps and a good book. i believe in traveling lightly and often. i believe in taking photographs in black and white because color is restricting. i believe in sleeping in late. i believe in kissing noses. i believe in change. i believe in long drives with good conversation. i believe in rock and roll. i believe we should embrace, rather than criticize. i believe in mistakes. i believe that no person or situation is black and white, nor should be treated like it is.

* * * * *

if i had my life to live over, i'd try to make more mistakes next time. i would relax. i would limber up. i'd be sillier than i have been on this trip. i know a very few things i would take seriously. i would be less hygienic. i would take more chances. i would take more trips. i would climb more mountains, swim more rivers, and watch more sunsets. i would burn more gasoline and eat more ice cream and less beans. i would have actual troubles, and fewer imaginary ones. you see i'm one of those people who lives sensibly and sanely day after day.

oh, i've had my moments, and if i had my life to live over i'd have more of them. in fact, i'd have nothing else. just moments one after another instead of living so many years ahead each day. i've been one of those people who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, hot water bottle, rain coat and parachute.

if i had my life to live over i'd go places and do things and travel lighter than i have. if i have my life to live over i would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. i would play hooky more. i wouldn't make such good grades, except by accident. i'd ride more merry-go-rounds. i'd pick more daisies.

-nadine stair, age 85


i've decided to live in iowa city this summer, and tony asked me to move in with him. i thought about it a lot, and as tempting as it is to wake up next to my boy everyday, i can't. today i'm in love, yesterday i was in love, but i really can't make guarantees on tomorrow. the last thing i want to do is stunt my own growth and experiences because i'm too scared to keep living. i want to walk around my apartment naked, lay in bed all day on sunday (sometimes alone), take long bubble baths. as much as i love being a part of something.. someone, i still value the time i have alone.


if you ever wondered what i was here for, i can tell you today:
i was kicking my feet on the wall of the garden
with my back getting wet
from the rainwater you spilled on the grass.

i was watching the sky and the clouds spelled your
name backwards, i had to twist my head around
to see it the right way.

i cant promise you a world you want, or a world
without men bearing arms
or arms bearing fists
but i can promise you an umbrella from your rain
until the stormclouds break and show you
the way back home.

stand up

we are going to fly, now, like
an airplane on a collision course with the moon,
break that thing in two and let the man deep inside
finally see what he's been doing to the sea.

further along to the lines of saturn and
the moon of jupiter
where i will show you what your mother looked like
when she was simply made of stardust.

by ben at never-ever.net


i went running in the freezing rain tonight, just hoping to sort things out to the beat of my shoes on the pavement. i couldn't sort myself out.

i don't know if i want to be here. maybe i should look into another college. a different state, a different city.

i met a boy. he looks lost, writes like kerouac and bought me far too many drinks on friday night. we stayed up all night talking about how crazy life is, and kissing in between sentences. i rarely fall for guys, and already i can't get this boy out of my head. i called him earlier like he asked me to, and he sounded uninterested (or maybe just sober.) i'm tired of being disappointed.

i want adventures. i want love. i want to feel okay again.


i love fall.

there's something strangely inspirational about watching everything die.

...to keep waking up in the mornings searching for ways to bear the day.


last night

there was something intoxicating in the air last night.. it left my dreaming about laying in the grass/ankles crossed/gazing at the stars. i felt something i had been missing: excitement for being alive. not excitement for fast cars/fast boys/fast parties, but just enjoying the conversation, the music and the feeling of the pavement on the palms of my hands (and picking the gravel out when i stand up.)

i want to keep breathing the moment/the crisp air/the contentment and never exhale.


i'm going to see 'pedro the lion' tonite at sokol.

i've had two caramel machiattos today.

i've been listening to soul coughing religiously.

i just finished 'the virgin suicides' by jeffrey eugenides.

here's an excerpt:

we knew what it felt like to see a boy with his shirt off, and why it made lux write the name kevin in purple magic marker all over her three-ring binder and even on her bras and panties, and we understood her rage cming home one day to find that mrs. lisbon had soaked her things in clorox bleaching all the "kevins" out. we knew the pain of winter wind rushing up your skirt, and the ache of keeping your knees together in class, and how drab and infuriating it was to jump rope while the boys played baseball. we could never understand why the girls cared so much about being mature, or why they felt compelled to compliment eachother, but sometimes after one of us had read a large portion of the diary out loud, we had to fight the urge to tell eachother how pretty we were. we felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together. we knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.


inability to love is the central problem because that inability masks a certain terror, and that terror is the terror of being touched. if you can't be touched, you can't be changed. if you can't be changed, you can't be alive. - james baldwin

i spent most of my week in iowa city planning the next four years of my life.

i'm ready.

there's a world out there.. i swear.. i've seen a glimpse of the world outside of glenwood.. i've seen/breathed/eaten inspiration..


i want to get my hair cut short/sleep under the stars/dance in the rain/paint my nails the rainbow/photograph every corner of your eyes/take more walks with my brother.


i woke up late. read. ate waffles with strawberries and syrup. rode my bike. bought a caramel machiatto. sorted my clothes. laid out at the pool with meg.

my grandma just called and wanted to know if austin's younger brother was going out with david's friend because they were sitting together at church. i hate small towns.


today i bought:
one scoop of peppermint stick icecream on a children's cone
modest mouse: this is a long drive for someone with nothing to think about
/ishamel/ by daniel quinn
a photograph of john lennon in a new york city tee shirt
/stones from the river/ by ursula hegi
a sampler including onelinedrawing, pedro the lion, jets to brazil, the promise ring
/the power of myth/ by joseph campbell

i spent $30.

the old market just rocks my socks sometimes.


new york, new york

---> broadway, iced caramel machiatos, urban outfitters, an old woman in a yellow lace dress and huge white sunglasses sitting on a bench kicking her feet, h + m, a lovely candle shop, beautiful men, jack kerouac, canal street, thai, elise, headphones on the subway, natural curl, shirley temples, the boy in front of me at cabaret, grenwich, platform shoes on cobblestone streets, realizing how insignificant my problems are (but how much i matter), schizophrenics i enjoy listening to, lace skirts, mix cds from ry, i-d, dean + deluca (where's felicity)..

i found my heaven. i hope you know yours. <3>

p.s. i'll be "home" on saturday.


it's coming to an end

i have one day left of high school. the book is about to close on this chapter of my life and eventhough it's time i just can't believe it.

i remember walking down the halls staring at the ground my freshman year.. finally finding the darkroom, and a boy who changed my perspectives (and widened my universe).. discovering emerson and thoreau.. crying over boys, fights and other trivial matters.. getting ready to go out dancing or to parties.. having a crush.. being the homecoming queen.. going to concerts.. dating the rock boys..

looking back on it now, it was great. it was the way high school was suppossed to be for me. i didn't slow down, and i didn't mold into anyone's ideals..

now i have a summer to look forward to.. a summer of being in between and searching farther and deeper.

i can take long runs, take exciting vacations, read anaïs nin and pablo neruda, and just enjoy..

and i will.


never look back unless you intend to go that way.


i'm feeling frazzled. there was no flow today.. just a lot of burnt ends and tired sarcastic comments.

a table fell on me when i was getting bread out of the backroom. while being trapped to the floor the used mopping water fell over me.

now it's time for my photography class.

good god.



i am the proud owner of daisy, my new baby duck! i just gave her a bath in the sink, and chased her around the yard.

i'm eighteen going on twelve..

and i love it.


i needed to run today...

i ran to the playground i went to when i was just a little thing..

i used to chase tyler harpster, and threaten to kiss him. i used to pretend i was a movie star married to tom cruise, and we lived under the jungle gym. i used to wait to be picked for kickball, and i was always the last one chosen.

nothing has changed, and everything has. i'm still the same little girl on the same legs with the same dreams.


these past few days have slid through my fingers, but i have enjoyed my moments.. i haven't diminished my "to do list", but it's seeming less and less important in the large scheme of things.

i dropped icecream in his lap. i talked through two movies. i fell asleep.. but i was held.

(i have butterflies in my tummy again.)

all that matters passes before us now, at this moment. and assuredly we will not pass this way again...

so as i'm falling/breathing/loving/crying/sighing i'm trusting the moments.

"when i slow down long enough to smell the roses, i usually see the beauty and all else that is ours to share." - morgan jennings


amazing night.

six girls skating around ten year olds, laughing until doubling over, and wishing on shooting stars and streetlamps.

we're going to be okay. we're going to be more than okay.


oh dear.

ryan: watch...you'll find some hot stud and be married before you get out of college.
me: any guy who is referred to as a "hot stud" will never be my husband!
ryan: I meant "HOT STALLION!"
ryan: your man!


i started reading number six fumbles..

and couldn't stop until i was finished. it was a bit like reading my own life..

"but you have to look at the big picture. it's not the last screw up. everybody screws up. all the time. maybe the coach is going to ream you, but he'll get over it. isn't that kind of comforting in a way? because that's pretty much the worst that can happen. you let something slip. and then the world does not fall apart. and your little brother still wants to be just like you."

"maybe i should try it."

"you don't have to try it. you can just know that it'll probably happen and if it does, you'll still be the same person."

since february tenth, i've felt as though an enormous weight has been lifted off of me. i am human, and i hope that is clear to everyone now. i have been known to put on a happy face when i feel like i'm breaking inside, and i don't want to do that anymore.

i've just turned eighteen.. i mess up. i've tried to hurt myself, and perhaps i've tried to hurt you. i have had bad boyfriends. i hide feelings i don't want to deal with. i'm just growing up.

i dropped the ball, but i picked it right back up.

earlier i wrote that high school has been just one big disappointment, and that's not completely true.. i've put myself into situations that could've been easily disappointing, and they were.. but there were so many good times too.. i loved when michelle and i would go to dances completely sober, and dance so crazy that the chaperones would ask to smell our breath.. i loved when hannah, jessie, michelle and i played four square outside the cog factory in the rain.. i loved when my boyfriend wrote 'i love you' in messy watercolor in the back of the art room, and then put it in my locker.. i don't miss it because it's not gone.. it's all still a great part of me, and has formed who i am today..

thank you.


i want to be mysterious and untouchable.

i want to travel to bali.

i want to wear lacy camisoles and flowers in my hair.

i want to live in a city where people still walk, and still stop to admire the beauty.

i want spring.

"yesterday, i saw so much unhappiness in people's eyes, all of us rushing somewhere. construction noise and dust filled the air; we could have been hurrying down some boulevard in hell. and I was reminded that this is hell unless i extend compassion to those around me. if my heart isn't open, i'm just another tourist here, collecting memories, looking for the perfect souvenir." - sy safransky

congratulations mr. safransky. you've hit it right on the head.


my mom bought lemons, tea and bubble bath.

we saw "i am sam" which definitely earned a spot on my top ten.

from "the alchemist" by paulo coelho:

"i don't live in either my past or my future. i'm interested only in the present. if you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man. you'll see that there is life in the desert, that there is life in the desert, that there are stars in the heavens, and that tribesmen fight because they are part of the human race. life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living right now."



unfortunately i've gotten myself into trouble. hopefully through this i can begin to appreciate my life (right now).

i'm sorry to the people i've hurt.. but i still have a today and a tomorrow, and i am learning from yesterday.

i will write more once things have smoothed out.


a few days ago this house, this family and this girl seemed so bright, but once again things are slowly dimming. i'm so scared to fall back to my demise.. let myself get tiny, get lost in a drunken haze.

i just can't carry what people are throwing at me.

the tea isn't helping anymore.

i need somebody to hug me (then suffocate me).

from "cherry" by mary karr:
oh for chrissake, mother. come here, you say. when you hug her, she feels oddly pliable in your hands. she draws back to look at you with that abstracted expression she brings to her sculpture. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, pinching a caress along your jawline like it's clay she's shaping. but she's not shaping you anymore. she long ago asked you to shape yourself, occasionally tossing out a strand of worry for you to dismiss.


i think i need to cry

two more hours until this bad day is over.

7:50 a.m. i woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
8:45 a.m. i was forced to have a conversation with my ex-boyfriend who is a constant reminder of my stupidity, and ofcourse his own.
11:25 a.m. my car wouldn't start.
5:35 p.m. i had to go the mall.

stupid reasons, stupid day.

and i'm tired of feeling numb.


i'm eleven again

i went to the old market and took pictures. i had chai with a friend at delice.

i had tea with my mother on our front porch. i read her excerpts from "letters to a young poet." we talked about simplifying our lives.

i played football with my guys. i have a huge scatch on my arm, and grass burns on my knees.

this is definitely a day to remember. i feel eleven. i wish i could store this moment in a jar for the notsoperfect days.


sweet relief

just dropped my government class. give me pronouns and f stops any day, but i put my foot down at monarchies.

it's sixty degrees outside. the sun is shining. a perfect day for the homemade skirt and new pumas.

i have photography class tonite, and we are going to an art gallery opening in the old market.

i'm going to fix some tea.. maybe take a walk..


pink sky perfection

took my cousin to a movie today. she turned twelve ten days ago. she just got her ears pierced. she had a birthday party to go to tonite. they are going to do arts and crafts. she refreshes me. i love the way she looks at me.

after i took her home, i went to borders. i picked up "a journal of solitude" by may sarton and alana davis' first album. i drank a glass of chai. i could stay there for days. it's intimidating to see everything i don't know surrounding me, making me crave it that much more.

why do i have to anything except drink green tea and stare at a pink sky?

michelle and her family invited me over for dinner tonite. we ate butter cookies for dessert. i saw our microwave and new fridge for our dorm room. i hope her mom sends us butter cookies in the mail.

* i have not had any coffee today, and i am very proud of myself. i have drank enough tea to fill a wading pool.


with the lights off, it's less dangerous

i have my green tea.. my uncomfortable shoes off.. i'm glad to be home.

(why do i own any uncomfortable shoes?)

i saw "a beautiful mind" tonight. it's an amazing movie.

before that i had districts from improv. my group is going on to state. we performed at 10, but didn't leave until 3, so i spent most of the time listening to a tori amos album i picked up.

"so what's catching your eye these days?"
"people barefaced and offguard, and the underside of chairs."