I welcomed back the shade and he climbed out the window.
He climbed out the window of the church where the old orchard used to be.
And then he ran across the street -- stepping on just the white ones,
planting his feet hard on the other side with his fists up in the air.
"I made it by 13!" he said.
For all seven years of his life we've been neighbors,
but I never really talked to him 'til then.

He reached in his pocket: "I've got matches." he said.
"Be careful kid, you better catch the world on fire before it catches you."

and baby, i want to love you.

but right now, that's like asking rain to be dry.

and i hate myself for that.

[photo by me]

the latest film. photos by me.

He came by this morning, to say goodbye.

rounded the corner of my street, i'm sure, the very same way he had every day for the past two-or-so-weeks.

i sort of lost words, because what do you say?

"i may never see you again, but i'm sure glad i met you."

"you are one of the most interesting people i've ever met, you taught me so many things about the world, outside of my little fishbowled one."

"you smell like the best thing in the world."

"i hope i left some sort of good impression on you, like you did on me."

"maybe something really neat will happen with us one day, and i can tell people we met one summer when we were both seventeen."

i watched him walk down my sidewalk, and turn the corner.

then i said, "mom, isn't it weird that people can just come into your life? and then leave?" 

i think it is. 

[photo by me]

i loved when you'd tell me i was "so beautiful",
and i'd say "nu uh" and you'd say, "I think you are."

goodbye.  au revoir. arrivederci. vale. 

[for all the languages you know]

i feel misplaced.

like that one hair on your head
 that always succumbs to gravity more than the others,
and rests on your forehead. 

i miss you being my place.

[photo by me]

my words feel redundant and i think i've lost something but i don't know what. 

i don't write very much anymore and i hardly ever leave myself time to think.

i miss being sporadic and full of life. 

and i think i cry on every birthday.

sometimes it's because i feel bad that people give me things, and sometimes it's because they don't give me what i want. 

but this year i got what i want, a bike.

a brand new single speed bike, it's coming in the mail.

but still, i cried. 

and i cried when my mom got mad at me because she thought she had to buy my friends dinner, but that's the thing, i wish she could.
i wish i could buy anyone dinner, or have enough money to give anyone anything.

because when it comes down to it, people deserve to feel important. 

they deserve a warm coat or a stupid hour and a half at nickel city.

i think that's why birthdays are sometimes just awful.

because you want to feel like the most important person in world--for a day.

i hate it when i'm selfish and impulsive and i throw away all my thoughts like they don't matter.

they do matter.

everyone matters.

and i wish that if anyone thought they didn't matter they would just let me talk to them for five minutes so i could tell them they do.

i wish i could help everyone feel better.

it amazes me how many people are sad, and lonely, even when everyone else thinks they're on top of the world.

i think sometimes people think that about me, like i'm just this kid that has everything figured out, but i'm not.

sometimes i wish i didn't have to be the first one to say hi to someone in the halls.

because i'm intimidated too, and insecure and a teenager too.

i always hear about people not liking me because i'm "pretty" or something stupid. 

i don't always feel pretty, or cool or smart.

i don't think anyone does. 

i guess what i'm getting at is everyone is important and deserves a kind hello or a even a half smile.

when i say my prayers at night i ask God to help other people to know me, and my intentions, because it sucks to feel disliked.

and i pray that i'll be able to reach out to people and help them feel happy.

i just hope people know that i care about them and that they're important and that i'm not a mean jerk. 

i'm sorry for rambling. i guess that's what happens when you sit down without anything to say.

my friends are prettier than your friends.

let there be light

*favorite* ^

i'm always wasting time, not that there's really any to waste.  

i'm so chucked full, and stuffed, of things, and agendas, and more things, that i feel like i can't breathe, or have a moment in my own head.