The smell of sage and Palo Santo drift out through the window as sunlightlight pours in across her bed. It takes up nearly the entire room, leaving just enough space for a table draped in candle wax, crystals, and other mystical souveneeres. A glass jar filled with fish bones from the Salten Sea serves as a prop for a stack of tarrot cards, and I can't help but think about the stories she told me about the desert. How her eyes look when I ask her, shows you she's fallen in love. We're sitting and dreaming about adventure, about how it must feel to experience something larger than ourselves.
My life can be charted out in a series of half-formed thoughts from the notes on my phone and audio recordings that give me nostalgia for everything I’ve ever wanted and nothing I’ve ever done. Film photos peel off my wall like temporary tattoos on skin that doesn’t feel like my own anymore; skin that doesn’t feel like home anymore. Each face is blurred at the edges with the uncertainty of a teenage girl, the constant questioning of virtue and future actions.
Living my life through moments that have never happened, this is what it all comes down to.
What my life looks like behind closed bedroom doors is very different than what it looks like inside my head.
In my head I am free, I am floating like I never could never, like I never can until I leave. There’s just so much restlessness, so much I wish I knew about myself but can only dream of finding. They say the ocean is one of the most unexplored places on the planet, but there are tides inside of myself that I’ve yet to even swim in. I don’t know what the water would feel like at 3AM, or the weightlessness of leaving everything for something uncertain, something unplanned and undecided.
My entire present is spent thinking about the future, all of the adventures and people and emotions I know I will have. That’s all I really want, all I’ve ever wanted. I believe in the universe, in the fact that we are all connected together by energy and circumstances that are larger than ourselves, that everything happens for a reason and that the bad evens out with the good. I’m having a hard time understanding why these things fell the way they did though, what the rhyme and reason is to this reality. I’m hoping things will explode once I’m out, so many good things will happen that I won’t even be able to remember what a bad experience feels like.
I’m trying to type all of this out, to explain how I feel and what goes on inside myself, but I think I’ve spent too much time in my head to be able to tell you why and how and what.
There are so many things I’m preoccupied with that you could never see, or begin to understand until it’s already played out. I feel like I’m creating things, I can feel the strings winding together in my subconscious, fixing my reality and all of the mistakes and misunderstandings into something great. Somewhere I can actually be happy.