tobermory

i fell asleep to the sounds of gusty wind and sam reciting australian poetry from memory. i fell asleep in blissful exhaustion. with the smell of the campfire and the sickly, satisfying sweetness of burnt-to-a-crisp marshmallows in my belly. i fell asleep thinking of home but dreamt of nothing i can remember. i fell asleep last night, in a tent, alone, in the canadian countryside, so lost in heart and mind.

i woke to a sunday morning clouded in glaring grey. i woke to green tea delivered right to my tent. i woke with warm breakfast. i woke with the squirrels and the birds, new friends and one very old.

i slept and i woke, like any ordinary day, but this one, well this one seems a little different.

off i go, the morning is slowly slipping away, the grey remains. but i’m a little less tired and a little more found in all the smells and sounds of this canadian campground.

"I am a part of all that I have met."

 Alfred Tennyson, excerpt from “Ulysses” (via thequotesymposium)

"Tell me all your secrets, I’ll pour you wine
And if it gets late enough, I’ll tell you mine."

Joe Purdy (via thequotesymposium)

lost at lost lake

[photo: lost lake, oregon]

i dive into the lake. a snow-capped mount hood stands majestically, she doesn’t even notice me here. underwater now, i’m taken by surprise as i open my mouth and taste clean, bland, fresh water. you’re not by the ocean anymore! it shouts all over my tastebuds. it’s cold and goosebumps send chills through my blood, beating warm just minutes before. 

this doesn’t look real, i tell her later, it’s as if i’m dead and dreaming. it’s as if this all rose up from my imagination, creating a scene from scenes unseen and seen before. but, really, it’s incredible.

i’ve never known anything like it. and everyday challenges that, and everyday i say the same. everyday i feel the difference. i wonder if that would ever end. 

we leave and take the old, snaking road back to the valley. i sit in the doorframe of the car as it winds through tall trees, so dense, that smell like the earth, open air and christmas. the wind hits me hard in my smiling face and dries my gums. i laugh and breathe so deeply. oh, this is living. yep, this is living well.

is that so much to ask?

and all these things i’m coming up on, all the streets i’ve yet to walk and people i’ve yet to meet, oh all those streets and people may be the most significant and important of my time away so far. and i’ll think about them in the future as if they’ll be here tomorrow and i’ll find a place in a place in a dream in a place, and i’ll make my own way and you’ll never know what you did to me or how i hated or loved you for it and how i pushed through agony [that really never was] and found ecstasy [which i always only had] and the effervescence of the dreams i try to hold so tight become me just clutching clutching clutching at thin air until i feel what i think is the place that holds the secrets to the world inside my heart, and i see it for a second in my hands. and then i let it fly when i realise that the pull between the agony and the ecstasy exists only in my mind and everything else will come and go as moments of insignificant clatter that make me only think it’s the way i only think it is.

bring me along, unattached. forever on the fence between green and greener. life is too mysterious for me to be tethered to your plans [mind, it’s you i fear]. let spontaneity and flights of fanciness tickle me and set my heart on fire, set it loose to float with clouds and fly with bluebirds. that’s all i really want to do, live my life so dreamily aware of all that’s wonderful and lovely.

dream on

and how i long for that simplicity, for you to feel what i feel and realise that this isn’t happenstance, that this isn’t crazy or strange or unusual in any way. that this is what it is because we make it like it is, because we say yes or we say no or stop or go or change this way that way up down stay leave travel job money child puppy partnership priorities house home
higher stiller clearer
more less and or forever never
you
me 
we
love. 

bind your soul to the edges of my own. and feel what i feel, it won’t take you long. 

feel the rumbles and the softness of the change you can rely on. feel the pain and the hurt of the moments that don’t quite go your way. feel it all how it all should be felt, let it go and leave the rest to fate. wish upon that first bright star and find your dreams come true in explosive moments so surreal and momentary. and they’ll all become part of your very perfect future so very perfectly out of your very perfect control. and you’ll surrender to the causality, to the uncontrollable notion that nothing and everything will go to plan. and that no plan [and every plan and even every unknown plan] is, in its entirety,
the
exact
plan. 

steep your dreams in permanence. brew ideas from the deepest crevasse of your imagination. live your own incredible, immaculate life. and build it from the wishes of everything your brave beautiful beating heart desires.

"You filled me with a wild desire to know everything about life."

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via girlinlondon)

(Source: katuytiepo, via salvacorpusamanti)

"You don’t test a gentle person the way that you don’t steep tea for too long. Submerge me and I will imbue, and what was sweet will be bitter. I will be strong on your tongue and unpleasant to the taste, and you’ll regret drowning me in your guile.

My gentleness is not for your taking."

"If the writing is honest it cannot be separated from the man who wrote it."

Tennessee Williams (via writingquotes)

over the past little while

i left carly and sun river with a pinch of sadness, a little reluctance, sure, but i knew it was the right time to move. i thumbed it and road tripped with logan. the boy with the guitar. he’s all pisces, through and through. like me. he made the ride a joy - jiving and joking, bouncing and buzzing off a way-too-big caramel macchiato. he reminded me of three people at once - but for the life of me i couldn’t tell you who.

i met morgan, here, in hood river, like it was no big deal. like we weren’t reuniting completely out of context. in her hometown. in a place where she keeps all her memories and stories, through forests, in waterfalls along ridge lines, through orchards and wineries.

today we hiked to tamanawas falls. i was [illogically] scared of bears. mountain lions. wolves. i was walking while adrenaline was pumping, hard through my veins, all the way to the end. to the waterfall, which fell wide and slim. cold water. a glacier runoff. don’t drink it. she laughed. 

we scrambled across a rock face, loose and sturdy - who knew which was which - and found ourselves behind the falls. behind! do you believe it?! it was like magic. the water streaming down in front of us - looking back into the valley. into! do you believe it?! it was like magic. between the excitement and the adrenaline, i couldn’t think straight. we sat, for a minute. took photos. stared in relative silence [the sound of the falls overtaking all others] and marvelled. oh well done mother nature. well done. you served us well today. well done. 

we climbed down moss rocks and mud to the base of the falls. to where the spray saturated us. to where we looked up and whirled with vertigo. [to where the water looked like it could brutalise, bury and rescue you, all at the same time.] i lost my feet and slipped, on my bum, down gravel rocks and wet. adrenaline now doing nothing more than making me yelp and warn morgan, below me, of our possible demise into the base of the waterfall. 

alas! death did not come. not by falls, not by bear, not by sliding into a ravine [perhaps a place we shouldn’t have been.]

but thank you mother nature, for your kindness in keeping us safe. for your provision of a waterfall so goddamn, unimaginably, breathtakingly beautiful. for the hundreds or thousands of who-knows-what-happened years that formed this place in the very first place. oh man, this world. this land. this life. oh me oh my, this land this life.

"

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible.
Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.

And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.

We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.

We never know when the bus is coming.

"

Lewis, Rachel C.. Tell The People You Love That You Love Them. (via wordsnquotes)

(Source: wordsnquotes, via commovente)

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