Saturday, July 15, 2017

Driving With My Mom

I dreamed last night that I was riding in the car with my mom 
as the adult I am today. 
She reached over and put her arm on mine
 and I couldn't help but notice how unusual it felt 
but in my dream I couldn't understand why. 
As we drove, we didn't speak but it was a comfortable silence. 
One where you hear the wind along the car, 
you can smell the grass because the windows are down, 
you feel the sun on your arm and face. 
During the ride I closed my eyes and could see four small journals. 
They were mine.
Four different pastel colors with writing all over them. 
My stories, my life. 
Without words she wanted me to know that she had read them. 
That she had been a part of them. 
That she was there. 
It was a conscious dream. 
One where I knew I was dreaming 
Yet I knew it was real. 
And it was. 
And she is. 
And that makes me so very happy. 

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Somewhere Inside

  • I keep all of Sophie's drawings.
  • The cleaning bug doesn't usually bite me but when it does it is usually all out. I go overboard.
  • I love things that touch my heart.
  • I love a good heart wrenching book or movie.
  • I believe in fairy tales.
  • I wish I could let go of all of my insecurities and live completely free.
  • I feel like I get on people's nerves.
  • I want to be noticed but I don't like attention.
  • I have trouble sleeping - too many thoughts and fears.
  • Music makes my soul feel free.
  • I can be terribly stubborn.
  • I can be judgemental
  • Mountains make me happy.
  • I secretly wish I could afford to focus my energy on some type of art and my family, not a "job".
  • I often feel out of place or irrelevant.
  • I enjoy detail specific activities.
  • Sophie can make me the happiest person in the world and break my heart so completely - all in the same instant.
  • Chris can do the same thing.
  • I can read a day away.
  • Friendships are hard for me.
  • Philosophy intrigues me.
  • I love Willie Wonka.
  • I fear early death.
  • I wish my mother could be here.