quiet heartbeats.

i like spacious fields the best with you - there's always the details to memorize and you remember, which i throw coins up about liking. and when it's late i close my eyes to be there, you never think i'm weird, and when i dance you just kick up dirt. some say the cemetery is my home. i admit to pulling out my hair. i guess i'm as young as they say; it surely feels that way when i'm just capturing the horizon each day. enough about me, he says, lets talk about you. the second time around is when i get it the best. some say you're all but magical. i think i know better.

"I'll never stop wandering. And when the time comes to die, I'll find the wildest, loneliest, most desolate spot there is." 
(July 12, 1933, to Waldo, from Chinle, Arizona) -Everett Ruess

it's not good to stumble upon those things when you're restless at 2 am.



The sun is shining but we stay inside, oh but we go out at night.

my new favorite time; when the storms roll in off the lake and the town goes silent but still moves real fast. i stopped at foresteria park and took some pictures on the yashica when it was like that the other day. a family with a minivan met up with some russian(?) man - equestrians, holla - and their voices were all tangled with the wind and the swings.

i lost the middle stone in my blue ring for good. i really don't like january.