We all have questions.

I'm confused about the nature of the modern world and how we live in it. We either have no drive or passion to really live and explore and do things with our lives, or we're driven for all the wrong reasons and don't even know why we're intent on being what we're trying to become and we feel void of happiness because we're not really living the way people should be, which is from the heart. Why do we work a job we hate just to save up money for no reason and put value on what we're told to put value on and go through each day being successful from the world's perspective but rotting on the inside, because sometimes a moment comes and hits us and we see what we're doing and what we're becoming and we hurt because it's not what our heart wants, we just were too weak to follow it and instead followed our idea of what the world wants from us. And that leaves us dry inside and wasted outside. We can't do that and we can't waste time, because we don't know how much of it we have and the world is a treasure chest brimming over with opportunity and we can pick and choose them and win and lose them and every jewel is a promise, not for worldly success, but for a chance to flourish and feel alive. The world says we fail? Then we take a different gem. We cannot fail. We can stop trying and we can reject opportunity. But life is not a win or lose game. It's a sit or run game. Either sit stagnantly and hopelessly or run with wide arms to catch what the air has for you and breathe it into your lungs and capture it there inside you until you must burst it out and take another gulp. Why don't we all live like this? Are we followers at heart or leaders? Are we scared of the world or overwhelmed by it? Do we listen to our insides churning and showing the truth of ourselves or do we swallow the words read and voices heard and take in all that is outside, becoming then something outside of ourself instead of pouring ourselves out into the world to evoke change? We have it all backwards. Who would each of us be without any influence but ourselves? We build ourselves out of others. Is that necessarily wrong? I don't think so. But it's sometimes sad, because in the midst of that we lose our heart and how to recognize it's pulse and we become very, very lost.

I write to lose, and in that, I gain.

This poem, or short story if the background is understood, portrays a distant but constant force inside me. In these few lines, I tell a story that's tread mile upon mile across my heart. Not every story needs an ending, but this story wants one. I end it with these words and therein mark the finish line inside my heart. A race not won; merely run.
These words are like a sticker on my soul. As I peel it off and place them on the page, it's a similar sensation to peeling away a scab. You must not be too early or the pain will be strong, and not be too late or the fun is all gone. Right in between is where it belongs. Strip it off quickly; it hurts, then it's gone.

May 26th, 2014
Eschar

Open mouth, listless stare
turn away, never care
point at her, save your face
piercing eyes.
But you didn't even look.
And I don't want you to.
Fist flies at empty air
bruises are everywhere
neck strains with stubborn pride
salt licked words.
But you didn't even hear.
And I don't want you to.
Pinch the scar, trace the line
bodies all ache with time
burns are just burns are just
burns. Mine.
But you didn't even care.
And I don't need you to.

Don't dress for success or even at all.

Fake is fake and fake is bad.

…Words of wisdom from Johanna while we sauntered through Wegberg eating our ice creams in the sunshine, racing to finish them before the sun did. How I've missed the refreshing ice cream and HOW I've missed my dear Johanna. Last night we snuggled up in her bed and I tickled her back while we listened to Greg's Tagebuch and she fell asleep tucked into my arms just as if I hadn't been gone a single day. My emotions have been swimming in the murkiest of places since being back in Germany and I'd try to explain it, but it's putting me in a muddle just thinking about explaining it. I've barely jotted down more than a few paragraphs in my journal since I've been here and for anyone who knows me, they know that's not at all very much. The outer layers of my emotions tell me not to write and not to think about any part of my journey and the residing emotions from May 20th, because they are saving me from all the tears for a time when I am stronger. The point where my mind allows me to begin from is when I lugged myself and my two suitcases, with the help of the train conductor, from the Erkelenz train station and heard Jojo scream my name. I looked up and saw her running through all the people with her arms open wide, wearing her new blue dress and a huge smile across her face. Then came Pia and Gereon and Britta. After that, I slept. And slept and slept. On Friday, I woke up in the morning and never got out of bed. I half slept all day until 6, had some dinner and took a walk and then slept all night too with the help of my old friend Nyquil. Although I was very tired, I think part of me was uninspired to get out of bed and live in my day. I just kept rolling over and shutting the day out. Depression always hits me when I first move. It doesn't necessarily mean that I've made the wrong choice, but it always happens, that heaviness that you try and pray away. Saturday was my first day feeling remotely like myself and I enjoyed it fully. I drove with the Heinens to the Eifel in the mountains to get their new puppy! 

Most mornings, the coffee cup I choose to drink from determines a lot for my day. It seems silly, but for coffee lovers, perhaps it makes sense. This morning I reached for a blue cup with seagulls on it, but the blue suddenly seemed too blue and too dark and my eyes lit instead upon a powder blue cup with a big daisy painted across it that seconded as a smile and I just knew I needed a smiling daisy to start my day. Today has been partly work, partly play, and now I need to get to some more work… that's why I'm writing a blog instead. I love procrastination. This is almost like double procrastination too, because I went and got ice cream with Jojo instead of doing my work. But now it's really time. I have to finish my application so I can hand it in this week. Tomorrow starts a scary/relieving week. Scary, because I'm going to find out if I can go to school and when I need to take the math test I've been dreading, and relieving because I'll know results and therefore, what to do from there. This week I'm also meeting with my future boss about the business English job. There are a lot of open ends and a few might get closed this week, so I'm a little on edge! 

It might not seem like it, but I'm happy to be back in Germany. I cleaned my bike today and just gazed lovingly at it for a while. Sadly, I'm no longer the outspoken one you've come to know and maybe love, but instead I'm back to the trying to get out the right words in the right order in this ridiculous language I decided to learn one. It's great fun.

I miss Alaska. More than a crazy amount. But I know I'll come back and I'm taking in where I am in the moment I'm given and learning and growing and enjoying. That's the only way for me to live. 

And look! I've got some new poems! 

Clothed in your love, untamed, no shame
I bore your weight, I wore your name
Proud on my skin I let you in.
Skipping beats and missing breaths
You watched me love you, now watch me press
My cheek onto your chest 
And memorize your face
Oh I knew every corner and line; you were my favorite place.

When you take each mystery you meet and tie them about you just tight enough to breathe, their cords will wind around and twist across and entwine throughout the shackles on your skin to break the bolts that hold you low and lift the corners of your soul that slacken from the weight of all you know and know and know you have to stop, unlock your cage and fly away in mystery.


Nothing else comes from my heart to my brain to my fingers to the pen to the paper like you do. But I don't want to write about you and your eyes and your sighs and the color of your skin with your whispers on my cheek that slip into my ears and wake me from my sleep. 
You and your kaleidoscope of glances, how they caught me and enchanted all the dull necessities of life so I could gaze forever and always and only see you.
Trying to leave you has led me astray; pushed my colored world into a dull, relentless gray, and so I grip on firmly to the precious ideal that our time could be endless and our love could be real.