Last night, E took me to the state fair and we saw all the livestock (I even petted a sheep and a pig) and ate Guernsey ice cream and went on a handful of rides - the tilt-a-whirl (this photo is a before/after for that one), the Ferris wheel, I even got him to go down the fun slide with me. He won me a tiny toy horse playing carnival games, which we have named Li’l Sebastian for obvious reasons. It was just. so. good. And the whole time, but especially at the top of the Ferris wheel, looking at the yellow moon above the vacant lot next to us, and especially in the car on the way home, windows down and catching a glance of my face in the mirror, I was so struck: thinking about the last time I’d been to a fair like that, probably my freshman year of high school; remembering how it felt back then, how it feels now. Looking at my face in the rear view, I had the odd feeling of being someone younger, of connecting to the version of myself I was back then in a way that wasn’t regressive, just made me feel coherent. I am the same person who got a first kiss behind a catholic school and hid from her parents when it was time to go; I’m the same girl and look how far I’ve come. I’m driving in the moonlight with the windows down, singing along to Tom Petty with the man I love desperately, with the man who takes my cracked pieces and holds them tenderly, holds me together. I am hurtling down a back road at the far edge of summer and for once in my life (for one time of many times, with E) I feel I am exactly where I belong.

Last night, E took me to the state fair and we saw all the livestock (I even petted a sheep and a pig) and ate Guernsey ice cream and went on a handful of rides - the tilt-a-whirl (this photo is a before/after for that one), the Ferris wheel, I even got him to go down the fun slide with me. He won me a tiny toy horse playing carnival games, which we have named Li’l Sebastian for obvious reasons. It was just. so. good. And the whole time, but especially at the top of the Ferris wheel, looking at the yellow moon above the vacant lot next to us, and especially in the car on the way home, windows down and catching a glance of my face in the mirror, I was so struck: thinking about the last time I’d been to a fair like that, probably my freshman year of high school; remembering how it felt back then, how it feels now. Looking at my face in the rear view, I had the odd feeling of being someone younger, of connecting to the version of myself I was back then in a way that wasn’t regressive, just made me feel coherent. I am the same person who got a first kiss behind a catholic school and hid from her parents when it was time to go; I’m the same girl and look how far I’ve come. I’m driving in the moonlight with the windows down, singing along to Tom Petty with the man I love desperately, with the man who takes my cracked pieces and holds them tenderly, holds me together. I am hurtling down a back road at the far edge of summer and for once in my life (for one time of many times, with E) I feel I am exactly where I belong.

“We are so wild inside,” you say, finally, and you’re not sure if you’re serious or mocking her seriousness. You’re not sure but you know it’s true. You keep your tangled heart a secret but you know it looks the same as hers. Looking at her, it beats and beats against the cage of your ribs, and you want to touch her but you don’t. As if touching her could calm it down, as if you could drown yourself in her skin and hear nothing, not your own heart’s beat, not the fish swimming through the houses, not the water lapping overhead. She sits across from you on the dock and suddenly you know that all of this has been a mistake. She is right. She cannot give you what you want.
file under: things I am writing right now
People are frightened of themselves. It’s like Freud saying that the best thing is to have no sensation at all, as if we’re supposed to live painlessly and unconsciously in the world. I have a much different view. The ancients are right: the dear old human experience is a singular, difficult, shadowed, brilliant experience that does not resolve into being comfortable in the world. The valley of the shadow is part of that, and you are depriving yourself if you do not experience what humankind has experienced, including doubt and sorrow. We experience pain and difficulty as failure instead of saying, I will pass through this, everyone I have ever admired has passed through this, music has come out of this, literature has come out of it. We should think of our humanity as a privilege.
Marilynne Robinson (via mttbll)

two of us on the run

(a mix for fall, a mix for escaping, a mix for boys and girls like you and me. slip out in the dead of night and follow me under the stars. the fire is coming, and I think we should run.)

1. Run - Daughter
2. Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings - Father John Misty
3. Work Me - The Black Keys
4. Old Fashioned Morphine - Jolie Holland
5. I Put a Spell on You - Nina Simone
6. My One and Only Thrill - Melody Gardot
7. No Room for Doubt (ft. Willy Mason) - Lianne La Havas
8. Snake Eyes - The Milk Carton Kids