from the perfect start to the finish line

& if you're still breathing you're the lucky ones
cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs
setting fire to our insides for fun
collecting names of the lovers that went wrong

Feeling in control but terribly controlled. Like it is some type of brainwash. Taking precedence over everything I know and love. Everything I BELIEVE in. How do you win?? You believe more. You pray more. You gain power. Strength. Ability to win.

I couldn't sleep because I was worried. Endlessly thinking of scenarios and worrying. Happy Birthday right? But it worked itself out. It always does.

Lead climbing an 11a. My first time ever leading. My second time ever climbing. Holding on by centimeters and shaking with adrenaline and weakness. Rising above!! LITERALLY! Pure and complete strength pulling up to the next bolt. Challenged and questioned, but ultimately successful.

I wrote him a letter about the love I have. The love I have always had. The love that compels me to be stronger and better. For him and for myself. The cutest cacti I ever did see and a turquoise necklace that tells a story. He loves to pack goodies up for me. I love thinking of him meticulously perfecting letters and packages and sending them for me to receive. I never stopped caring about him. I never could.

he's too good

Arms of a Woman and pretzel crisps dipped in peanut butter

supply and demand curves

interviews with target

the best and worst of my personality

I'll be yours and you'll be (lay with me, I'll lay with you)

We talked until 1 am about success, failure, mistakes, and accomplishments. Proud of each other and encouraged by the future. She is better than I, but we both know my time will come. We have so much to look forward to. Love in Berlin and Love in Tuscan. There are times when I wonder if I will do what I dream about. He wrote me a letter about his belief in my abilities. Said that if I work hard I can run my own boutique. I can sell my artwork and be successful in the best way possible. I trust his confidence in me. I trust MY confidence.

I look at my work. My creations with my own two hands. A pile of clay spun and molded into beauty. Pure and complete beauty. A tangible beauty. Something that you don't have to explain, it just makes sense. You hold it in your hands; let it shatter on the floor. Cry tears for a lost creation. He cries when he loses us. He cries when we feel shattered or broken on the floor. There are times when we feel tattered, damaged, and misunderstood. He cries with us and rejoices with us when we throw a new creation better than the previous. A gorgeous and delicate porcelain piece.

a testament of endurance