route 70

i wish the kids outside making noise would fucking GO to 7-11 already and leave me alone to sit on the deck and stare at those stars. who knew that the sky got that dark? i wish i had a telescope. this might be the closest i will ever get to them. i'm never going to be an astronaut.

the ocean is still pretty. my shirt still smells like the laundry detergent my mom left me at home. my feet are pretty cold and i'm still hating myself for not bringing a cardigan.

as much as i love it here, it feels like my heart isn't in it as much as it was the last time. almost as if i didn't reach the threshold of a personal breakdown enough before i left to really enjoy the vastness of the water i am around. that might change. maybe.

the shell hunting has generally been unsuccessful thus far. i saw many jellyfish corpses, not enough mussels. the wind off the water gave me a permanent chill and now i can't get my feet warm enough. i love marinas and swung on a swing set in front of shoal harbour. i'd be terrified to be on some of those boats in open water. i feel safer in lakes and think that jellyfish are literally terrifying. although the little white ones we saw in beacon were really cute.

i'm on an island and i feel like i am, myself, an island. long distances charges are always daunting, so instead i am not calling anyone. as i elect to travel solo on the majority of my jaunts west, i feel pretty alone at the moment. but i don't think i'd even change that if i could. shopping is always harder in groups and i don't want to compromise. my stress rash is still bothering me even though i am not really stressed anymore.

also, i think i'm actually getting tired of 1901.


i still haven't seen mt baker yet. i'm not counting the view from 40 000ft either. i want to see it from the ground.

i just wanted to tell someone all of that.

all at once.

you know when you get too busy to really stop, think and process things that have happened, lists you've made, chores you've forgotten, people you've lost touch with, garbage that hasn't been taken out, dishes that haven't been washed, laundry you forgot to fold, milk you didn't drink before the expiry and so on?

it's all catching up with me now.

i've slept less than 3 hours in the last day, i'm not packed, i feel lost and unfocused, my cat is dead, i'm alone metaphorically and literally, i actually miss my mom more than anything, i'm an adult, i don't know what i'm doing at all right now, i can't fold clothes properly, i'm lonely and i miss my cat.

i don't want to be a responsible adult. i want to be a kid, getting in trouble for not eating dinner and playing barbies. when the fuck did this whole growing up and worrying about money and bills and everything else under the sun happen? i want to veto this whole pre life crisis and be settled. i don't like not knowing what the hell i should be doing at a certain time. and the past week has been full of "OH FUCK WHAT THE HELL DO I DO" moments.

i need a pause button and a box of beer.

anthems for a 23 year old girl.

she had a sad day for many reasons. much of which she couldn't understand.
there were happy parts, there always are, but on this particular day she just couldn't seem to make the good outweigh the uncomfortable.

she got through the day and spent her night cleaning lettuce for salads, drinking strawberry milk and making good with her late movies.

and on the way back, as the peach flavored nicotine coursed through her veins, she lay on the driveway of her parents house, staring up at the lily colored sky, wishing she could see the stars, the full moon and her favorite planet, jupiter. she loved how her hands were silhouetted against the sky. the trees, the buildings and her hands were all black masses of questionable content unified by it's weight, it's color and it's gravity.

we're all parts of this blanket. this hammer, this piece of string, the eiffel tower.
in the dark, we're all silhouettes against some night sky.

but that doesn't make me feel any less lonely.