final thoughts.

this is my final post. i just feel as if these thoughts need to return to paper. i have recently started writing in my journal again, one i made by hand this time. truth be told it feels a bit like going home safe and private. we started this blog a little over a year ago Bee and i, and during this time i have learned so much about myself, but so very much has happened and so much has changed that it just doesn't feel the same anymore. we didn't really have high expectations for this blog, nor did we ever expect to have followers, but i think we gave it a fair go. i can't speak for Bee, but i am deeply thankful for the few of you who spent time with this blog. it truly means a lot to me.

Bee has another blog you should all be following. ask her about it.

as for me i am going to disconnect for awhile. i need to spend some time on myself. my new life plan is to let things go. 

 hope all is forever well, good night, and always with love.

Carli.

tree stories

 sometimes i feel like the tree that gets cut down to make a book that never gets read. it just sits alone in the back of some dusty forlorn bookshop, tables etched deep with coffee rings and carved initials. grown from the forest floor without notice. notched, cut deep, and dropped, chipped, cut, drenched with water, screened, dried, printed, sold, and forgotten. home forever in a quiet room, yellowing against a back drop of fake stories and fading ink. this is not a book you would want to read, but might have been a tree you would have climbed.

Carli.

winter ghosts.

last night i dreamed about a foggy morning in some deep forgotten forest. it started in a bed. my toes were cold, but the blankets felt so amazing tucked over my shoulders. i stayed there for a bit shaking the sleep from my mind, then i stood to get out of the bed. I slid my feet gingerly across the creaky floorboards, slipped a small latch on a wooden screen door and watched it bounce against the peeling white skin of the door. i can already smell the rich soil drenched by the previous nights rain, it isn't cold but a slight fog clings to the deep green trees and the porch pops a bit as i step onto it, behind me the screen door swings shut with a thatching thud, one of my favorite sounds. i feel the moisture on my skin, my chest rises and falls under a thin shirt, the buttons leaving a cool tingling trail. somewhere music begins to play it is distant and swaying. my barefeet sink into wet soil as i walk out across a wobbling meadow the tips of wet grass sliding over my bare legs, all around me tambourines and quiet guitar, a soft humming voice, and wet grass. as i reach the edge of the clearing the sun breaks just above the treeline. the world itself turns to gold, and just like that i am awake. my toes are cold, but the blankets feel amazing tucked over my shoulders, and this song was playing.

JBM "Winter Ghosts"

 

Carli.

simple.

I have been listening to the moondoggies almost nonstop since last night. i am almost nostalgic to the point that i feel like i am home. i am at that point in my life when i have just had enough. i want to simplify things. breathe mountain air, watch a dripping line lay out across a glacial silted creek, paint in my garage with the smell of fresh soil and stale coffee, drink beer barefoot in the dirt, throw sticks for dogs, take off for whatever might be out there, but mostly i just want to be me. chalk this all up to just another bad day, and forget about it. i have incredible people in my life who have carried me this far, but it is my turn now, and i figure the best way to say thank you is to find my way. 

i just want all of you to know how much i love you. 

Carli.

not ever.

it would be so much easier if every morning i didn't wake up wishing i could just slip away. take my typewriter and whatever paper i could find and just slip away. far enough that i would forget everyone and they would forget me. i imagine it is pretty quiet at the ends of the earth quiet enough that i could just stop acting, doing, being, feeling.  

 imagine miles along some frozen ocean, nothing but the sound of your own whistle. no memories, words with multiple meanings, and absolutely no more pain. no more broken hearts. just fog, sea spray, and emptiness. charcoal gray sand, endless turquoise, and nothing but fading white.

what if the world would stop spinning just long enough for you to breathe it out. if there was a place you could run that would truly take you away. a place to hide your broken heart long enough to lose yourself.

i think the reason that this doesn't exist is because we all need to hurt. we all need to fight to heal ourselves. even if that means waking up everyday to cry in the shower. we have to heal until our hearts are ready to beat again.

when i truly think about it i am not really sure i could run away, even if the promise was that i would never hurt like this again. because, what if it is true? what if love really does exist, and what if i missed my chance? i couldn't run away knowing that. not ever. 

Carli.

I'm about ready

I think I am about ready to head out. I love this town and the people I have met, but I'm too comfortable with the way things are that I do not feel the need to deal with present and past issues. Fall, winter and spring are probably the hardest to handle in Laramie and it consumes the majority of our year. I've lost friends and then gained them right back. What a feeling!
Friends are my most valued people. They are my family away from my family. They keep me grounded and sane when we're all going insane from the cold and wind. (THE WIND!) These people are who make me laugh and smile. They understand and react to things better than I can at times. I couldn't ask for better people in my life.

The sun is shining more and my heart has picked up two beats. I'm ready for some change and more sun. I need sun and warm. Being cold through and through is exhausting. Putting on shorts because the clock across the street says "47 degrees" on it, is a delusion, because during the summer, I would be freezing at those temperatures. My legs, my arms, my body needs to be free from heavy coat and woolen socks!  I am itching like most for that summer air, summer sun and summer fun. Ready to run around without shoes and sing at the top of my lungs for I am free. Ready to travel by bike, by car, by plane, to see friends I haven't seen in years. Ready to feel that warm red glow through my eyelids and to lay in the sun for hours without anything to do. Ready to go to drive in movies with my boyfriend, my love, my friend.  He is the best.
This is another summer I cannot wait for. I will be starting my twenty fifth year this year, but being twenty-four years old is not quite so bad. I think this might be my year, but who knows! Summer Summer Summer!

I'm ready.

Love.
B.

milky-coffee.

 what would it take to wake up in a hazy afternoon, barefoot in some summer field, cutoff shorts and a dog trailing behind me? this is all i want right now. enough that i would bypass these next few months just to live this moment. hands outstretched barely dragging across the tops of fresh bluegrass, painted toes stretching deep into rain soaked soil, and the sun ah the sun warm and just bright enough to make you squint your eyes.

summer time. 

it is so far away, and yet my body yearns for the simplicity. the welcomed loneliness, bent corners on borrowed books, white wine and peach tea, thunderstorms and warm crashing light. i need it. bicycles and bluegrass, honeysuckle and orange blossoms, lilac sweet and mystical. why can't it be here? shooting stars, campfires, the wooden snap of hinged screen doors, fresh garden herbs, lemonade carafes, blueberry pancakes, rosy finches. oh why can't it be here...

yea... i know i live in laramie and i am just pouting. guess i will settle for milky-coffee and four more months wishing i were someplace else. bundle up there is a lot more to come.

grumble grumble grumble.

Carli.