post port townsend ramble…

i didn’t blog this morning because i was in port towsend. now i am back home and trying to get grounded after a twenty four hour whirlwind trip…

it was relaxing. my heart opened up there. i feel things deeper there. the veil is thin there. the longing of those who have passed lingers in the air like a strong scent. i got caught up in it. partiers drank and smoked till 5:45 am outside, right next to us. i slept a little and she not much at all, as a result. frank, the pyrite egg, radiated light into the dank air thick with something nasty. we burped up dragons who cleaned the air by eating all the yucky energy. this is how it rolls in port townsend. like david lynch meets dr. suess. the underworld, we entered into, after crossing the river styx on a ferry boat. we went to an art show and ate rich food. we strolled up and down the street, stared into the water, took a lot of pictures. not enough time. i need to go back but i need time to write, stroll, be alone. either i go alone or with someone who wants alone and together time too. how i love it there. how it stung to come back to the city, back to daylight, back to the mountain climb. i want to waft and float and sometimes, i want to swim away. i want to drift from city to city, taking pictures.

i don’t want to raise a family or have a normal 9 to 5. i want to live differently. somehow.

with him. somehow….

so many dreams that die and thrive. there’s this kean line about dreams falling onto the floor into pieces, then we pick the pieces up and i forget the next line. doesn’t matter…

on the other side of the river again, i hope for my full presence to return to this dimension, or i hope to be able to juggle the dimensions. part of me wants to journey but i need to stay here cause part of climbing up the mountain is staying the course even when you want to stop or take a tangent route. there is no time to take tangent routes. i am mastering a new language. i am also….just being. nothing too intense happening on the surface, that’s what island life feels like. i could vanish there but i wont. i am just letting the words flow out. no need to make sense of them. i miss him and wish he’d come back to me. or maybe he is brand new and we have not known each other before. life is always a mystery. i felt the mystery this weekend. port townsend is alive with sweet rich deep dark soil darkness. feeling the dead’s longing lingering in the air, their lost dreams getting tangled up in my hair…it reminded me of how we need to seize the moment.

hello life, i am here.

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