it’s been an awfully long week

if i have my headphones on, and the right song comes on, i shut my eyes, take a deep breath. for a second i can remember the smell of the wind when we were scaling that mountain hand in hand, and it was cold, but you kept your grip steady, you helped me press forward, my ankles occasionally faltering as my feet could not tolerate anything but sandals due to years of long habit and this winter was colder than i was used to.
i can feel gravel and sand occasionally getting between my toes, thistles getting caught in my two gypsy skirts, worn thin from being washed without soap in the streams and rivers against smooth stones.  but your strong right hand, leading me up that sparsely grown hill. there were mountains beyond, we were headed toward colder ground, but there would be water and we would be able to forge shelter. i knew we had just parted ways with another team, but i no longer remember the reasons. i just remember how beautiful the wind smelled, how cold i was, but how very. intense. our bond.. somewhere.. even if it’s not even in this lifetime. because i’m not confident i’ll ever find one.


i’ll do what i can to take care of myself. i’ll treasure the dreams and the memories because they’re so beautiful and precious, i’ll even put them in places for my friends and for strangers to see. for the internet to remember too. that universe i so reluctantly admit i created. i was able to say it before, i don’t know why it’s so hard now if i am just honestly calling my dreams dreams, my delusions delusions, and my fiction fiction. my journals.. my mumblings.. but the White Rabbit did say i created the dreams, when i was always referring to remembering and witnessing them. the last time i did an overhaul on the permissions of my last major journal project, i said something about creating a universe again.. but that was just because i was opening it back up. too bad i dismissed it without that much further thought.

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