of course you know this.

it's saturday morning.

i'm listening to death cab and letting my mind do what it does best:

over-think.

i let it stretch from the very beginning

to the days to come;

both sets are blurry.

i wonder when i became a winter

when i swore that i was always a fall.

i wonder what you prefer.

probably a summer or spring.

i was never a girl that looked good in pink

or was able to depend on her looks to spark someone's interest.

it involves more work,

but in the end,

doesn't that involve more substance?

today i thought of a mantra

something new to hold on to

something true that i always seem to forget.

do you love yourself?

do you think you're worthy?

then darling, why would you ever allow someone else to question it?

this would be easy if i could pretend that there wasn't someone out there for both of us.

but i know there is.

and yes, we'll find them

but in the mean time, i wish i could have something to hold on to.

when did we get so old?

beyond this

for now, i'm alone

in the open garden

with ivy streamers

and a mossy wall

i sit by myself and write.

it's a truth that i keep

hoping someone

someday

will know it too.

amsterdam.

it's shocking and nonsensical

but somehow seems so familiar.

it's that kind of day.

after ten hours of sleep

i still long to dream.

this was inevitable.

it's the deja vu that i've had so often 

that it never makes me awestruck

or dumbfounded,

that, "wow. this is the in-between" dialogue never runs through my head.

i wonder when i'm going to be unable to present you with anything new,

anything to keep you interested

because this is my deepest fear.

this would be much easier if i knew where i wanted to go from here.

i have spent most of my life initiating,

always doing.

why would i stop now?

i can't give you an answer to this,

but something is telling me to let it happen.

maybe i always made my fate

instead of allowing it to consume me.