pianos become the teeth - repine
that I flew across the country into the unknown. at twenty four, I made the decision to consciously live; it was to this day the most liberating thing I’ve ever done.
they tell you that the most insignificant things at the time, will end up meaning the most; this is that moment.
and god damn, if I could relive anything in my life, it would be this. but since I can’t, I’ll continue day dreaming and longing.
I’m shit at living in the now.
empire! empire! (i was a lonely estate) - a keepsake
Joie De Vivre - “Salt” (Couch King Session)
when i was nineteen you called me furiously screaming. i remember my jewel encrusted flip phone vibrating. it was late; it was a college summer. i was sitting on the sidewalk. you told me you found your baby brother with a gun cocked, put in his mouth, and you needed me to come over and talk him out of it. i always fixed things. despite the only handful of years age-gap, your drug dependent mother turned me into essentially, a teen mother. fixing the chaos she worked so hard to fabricate, as her mind set off fireworks, not able to streamline.
"lauren, i just. i need you to fix it. he said he won’t."
i started to cry. my tears pooled down my face. freely, rivering in a sense; they could not collect.
i loved him; he was my brother too.
last winter, seven years later, he came up to me. he’s engaged now. he has his own house now. he can drive now.
"thank you for always being there for me"
i love him; he is my brother too.
"you ever think… you’re bigger than this. than all of this?" you say this as your arm conveniently motions across the backdrop of the entire philadelphia skyline, but you’re not doing it for dramatics; it just happens to be behind you.
i take a deep sigh and a long drink of a lukewarm pabst. “i use to think a lot of things.” knowing internally, that this isn’t right for me; it’s never been right for me.
"you and i both know we’re worth so much more."
i finish my beer, and like the sunsets close the skyline into darkness and the blanket of night comes, i close my eyes on your roof deck and picture myself elsewhere.
"i’m fine. fine has always been fine enough." but i don’t say that out loud, i say it to myself. over and over again, like it’s the script to the play i’ve been reliving for 27.5 years.
Floral bouquet for Emily! Thanks for driving and driving and then sitting and sitting and sitting! This was so fun. Wild roses, California poppies, forget-me-nots, sweet peas.
do you ever just smell an old perfume, or hear an old song, or pass an old hangout spot and kinda break inside for a couple minutes