Today when I found out my best friend lost her father,
it shook me to my core.
Because that same friend lost her mother in middle school.
And I cannot and most likely will not ever know what that feels like -
Devastating, paralyzing, numbing, crushing. 
My heart hurts and my eyes close at what she, her brothers, and her family are dealing with. 

So please excuse the interruption:

But remember to be thankful. For every moment. 
Life is fleeting.  

Rest in Peace Tony Nicholls, you were truly an amazing father.
I am thankful we had moments of connection.  

I ran my fingers through the tentacles of oceanic feelings locked in my hair.
My hair is secretly trying to extract all of the bad thoughts from my brain,
which is why I have dark hair.
Dark hair is really a wonder, because maybe it means I have less darkness inside of my head.
My head felt light and wobbly under the warm water that sometimes feels like your fingers.
Your fingers wouldn’t touch me like that though, I know it is true.
It is true that our hair will turn gray as we age. 
As we age, perhaps our thoughts turn gray as well - or maybe there is just less darkness behind our eyes. 

Our eyes are so full of those same oceanic feelings, but they never fade.  

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BROTHER BEAR 

Birthday crayon craft for Matthew Wordell.  

WE STOLE A SHOPPING CART FROM SHOP-KO AT 3:31 THIS MORNING BECAUSE WE’RE YOUNG AND RECKLESS. 

Dinner: Mozzarella cheese and tomato fried sandwiches with basil. Soak sour dough bread in egg and fry in olive oil until golden brown. Top with basil, salt, and pepper.  

(via thediamondsinlucyssky)

Lily pads sail across small ponds of eyelashes, your eyelashes. 
Your eye is a lake, don’t question it.
And when I slipped under the surface of your pupil, it all became black.
I thought I would like it, I saw things differently.

But I became lonely in your gaze.

I swam back to the surface of your eye lid, and when you looked into the light
I cast a shadow that looked like an arrow.
And you might think I looked like an arrow sailing away from you,
But that was a bundle of your eyelashes I collected and tied to my wrist - floating away.
Away. 

I don’t know where you look now, but I’ve found a new lake to sink in.  

Friday dinner with mom!
Appetizer: Portobello mushroom caps with a white wine, garlic, and olive oil sauce. Topped with chopped parsley and parmesan. Served with garlic bread and white wine.

Friday night dinner with mom!
Main Entree: Butternut squash and red chile risotto with parmesan and sage.  Served with garlic bread and more white wine. 

Mason Bee Installation Project on the campus of Lewis & Clark College 

Read more here: http://www.piolog.com/newstories/2012/2/23/to-bee-or-not-to-bee-peas-attempts-to-pollinate-campus.html 

I remember liking you during class, and I remember liking you when you sang to me, and I remember liking you with our backs to my backdoor late at night listening to summer v by The Tumbled Sea, and I remember liking you when we sat on the picnic table in the rain, and I remember liking you when we walked together through the night, and I remember liking you during the summertime all the time.
I remember when we drove to the hospital, and when we yelled as loud as we could in your car, and when you told me you were bad at stick-shift, and when you would look at me while you drove.
I liked your hands, and I liked the way you misspelled simple words, and I liked the way you always left me voice messages when I didn’t pick up my phone, and I liked how you always wanted to watch movies with me, and this sounds weird but I liked the smell of your breath, and I liked your last name, and I liked your touch. 

I saw you right in most of the poems I scratch down in my journal at 2:11am. Who ever I’m writing about, it is you. And your blue eyes and tight fists and heart. I miss you & I always do.