concrete daydreams

chicago, los angeles, new york, boston; the citites that never sleep, the citites that people go to find themselves and end up losing their old sevles in between the over concentrated concrete and sky high buildings

i want to lose myself in the mass chaos yet fulfilling land that these cities hold 

I always dreamed of what my future would entail; someone to love me the way I want to love someone. where it hurts to be apart but it's comforting knowing you will always find your way back to them. I wanted an oak desk, custom made, big enough for my thoughts to be dumped out onto to be processed into readable words, also this is where I will place the picture of the happiest day of my life, we were all happy, watching our lives change before our eyes and the camera there at the right time so we would never forget. I wanted a bay window set in the middle of that desk looking out over the life on the streets and the cubicles placed simultaneously throughout those sky scrapers, the ones that an individual but so much time and love in.

but ultimately I want happiness. the kind that makes my whole body tremor when the autumn seeps in through the window for the first time all year, this, this is what I want. 

life. love. happiness. comfort. simple yet unattainable at times.

where the concrete ends the restlessness of thoughts begin and the constant sips of coffee continues. a stream of smoke outlines everything I've ever wanted. I go to grasp it and it dissipates. one day I tell myself, one day, ill have it all. 

crisp nature with a side of cynicism

I walked out my front door and the chill caught my sweater and moved it off of my stomach, the chill caught my cheek and reminded me of the soon to be coming season, filled with sweaters, colors, falling leaves, and hot coffee. I couldn't help but think about what last fall brought me.
It brought me the definition of nonexistence it taught me that as leaves fall and lose their home forever, that I too lost my home. I lost my safety. I lost my easiness. 
It was 5am and we were walking around the ground level of the hotel drinking coffee and embracing warmly, we didn't know how to do anything else. my sanity was upstairs, preparing. preparing for the future? or the dismal present? 
...to be determined later on

we went to the hospital and they told us, "don't be scared, we do hundreds of these a day" but out of the 1 in 200 that are burdened with this burdened you got it. so I wasn't to keen on the lingo that the doctors used. 

as I predicted, they didn't know what they were talking about.

"there were complications during the surgery," they said to us, "she bled out too quickly and there was nothing we could do that would have helped her quick enough." 

I couldn't cry, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything besides shake (I had at least 6 cups of coffee since 5am) and run outside to have a cigarette. 

an hour later, I went to call you to tell you my news. to my surprise my pocket vibrated, it was your phone. you gave it to me before going in, you told me to answer it if someone were to call while you were in surgery, "tell them ill call them back" you said. but now, no one would speak with you again. my safety, my comfort, gone. just like that. 

it took months to get everything cleaned out and reorganized. i call your cell phone every now and again to hear your voice,it helps me feel closer to you, which is something intangible now. 

its fall again, and as the leaves fall, my heart drops and am reminded of the hurt I felt a year ago. you left me, standing in the cold hair with no sweater. you were my warm hand and my blanket. 


then he walked over, draped a blanket over my shoulders, gave me a cup of scolding coffee, and held me. his words: "i know this is a difficult time for you, i know you miss her, but I'm yours. my hand fits your perfectly, let it fit yours as it should. I've waited my whole life to have your hand."

and so I took it. and I eased as much as I could. and as i sat there entangled in a divine human, I thought about how much nonexistence burdens a life, it is the scariest concept there is. with the last sip of coffee I let the thought go. 

the thoughts and feelings that awaken my soul

My head bangs up against the decisions of my future and the regret of my past as the rain washes away the sting of today. I long for the day when I can look back and say, “I am thrilled with the way things turned out” (if i make it there). Robert Frost claims one thing where I hope for another, this road I am on, has been traveled on, many times before, but why does it feel like the ghosts have vanished and left me to think all by myself in the oceanic abyss of my future decisions.

There I am, five years old, wearing a flower printed dress with my hair in a mess and my hand placed softly in the crevasse of my mom and brothers hand. My safety and security does not escape me, it is all in the tangible feelings of their hands. There I am, thirteen years old, in a mini skirt and tank top cut too low for the size of my blossoming body and my hair is neatly straightened, I am holding the hand of a boy, Landon. I thought this was love, I thought this was safety. Here I am, nineteen years old, holding no one’s hand. My sense of security is not found in an individual, I can no longer be protected by the warm hand and gentle heart of any individual. My security is placed in my future, the unwinding and unforgiving mystery of the word. My security has evolved and changed. My heart has broken and mended. My body has grown and matured.

My future is held in my heart, my entirety is based on the lessons I have had to learn. this is growing up, this is learning.