Skeletons In My Closet

I think I am collecting skeletons,
I hang them in a row.
Sometimes I go and visit them
when there's no where else to go.
They remind me life is choices.
They whisper what i lack.
If i forget to lock the closet,
they jump up on my back.
Some people have demons.
Some have tiny gnomes.
Some have weeds growing in their gardens,
Some never find their way back home.
But me, i collect skeletons.
I hang them in a row.
Sometimes i go and visit them,
when there's no where else to go.
I watch the way they move their bones.
I see them prance around.
When they think that i'm not looking,
They try on my weathered gowns.
They fly about the room,
in the moonlight the gowns glisten.
They flutter past my ears,
they tell me i should listen.
"Do you remember this one?"
"What would have happened then??"
But if i ask to try one on,
They say they only fit on them.

is anyone still listening??

there is something about being human that makes us want to find meaning in something. maybe not everything, but at least something. lately i have had so much on my mind. so much that i maybe don't need to find meaning in, but that i want so desperately to mean something. all of everything i am made up of is from every thing i have ever done and from everything that has surrounded me. every step i've ran, every particle of air i've breathed, every moment of sun or moment of staring at the moon. it's all a part of me, and i've just wanted it to mean something. how many times have i gone to the mountains? how many times have i sat by the sea. and what is it worth? what does it mean? what has it made me? and can anyone see it?

i ran almost everyday in the rainforests in alaska. around and around a lake called little dewey. up and down the rooted trail. i tripped on that trail. i bled on that trail. i stared at my reflection in the sap on the pine trees. i cried when i had to leave them. i actually hugged the trees. i carried a raft up the trail during my last week there so i could lay float on little dewey and listen teitur. "i was just thinking. i was just missing you and dreaming i slept with you.. don't get me wrong i still desperately love you.... inside this little head." and what does that mean?

i spent a summer sweating in a back a bush village in the middle of no where. i walked and sweat and felt myself getting stronger and hungrier every day. i held a baby there and i loved him. we called him french fry. i heard his body smack on the concrete floor at night in the crowded house while i slept under a sticky misquito net with todd. i rocked that baby in a hammock and he threw up all over me. i loved him and left him with a mom who was never there and pregnant again. what does that mean??

i feel like since i have been home, being real has been almost too painful. to admit hurt to admit not knowing. to try to find meaning. to try to share that the way you feel it. what the hell does it mean?

as a small relief to all of my viewers, i am over the negative picture phase. actually it has been a while now. but come on, these are neat!

relative

Existence is so much how we see it, i think. i feel like the world is big with endless choices and possibilities, but a lot of kids in our village have never left silk grass, maybe to go to dangriga once or twice in their whole lives. Sometimes we go 4 times a week. i cannot imagine my life being as small as silk grass. a whole new world is a hitch hike away. and yet that's it for so many of them. there are grown men who have never left hopkins. it's not like it is isolated or impossible, or even expensive to get in or out of. i wonder, maybe they are as scared of their world getting any bigger than their village, as i am as it ever being that small.

worlds without number...

the other day i met a cute little couple at the bus stop in dangriga. the girl was from canada and the boy from mexico. they got married in november and were traveling. i started talking to them and sat by them on the bus. she told me that she used to work in mexico on isla mujeres as a spiritual reader of sorts. so on the crowded bus with people standing in the isles and all about us, all eyes attentive, she read my numbers! she had a really serious face and beautiful green eyes. so for what it's worth, here it is:

3, 5, 8

3 for expressiveness and sensitivity

5 for independence and freedom

8 for power and abundance

all need to be channeled in a positive way. she told me i might do well in tulum doing holistic healing. so todd, we might be back to central america after all.

a thought and a question

first the question. is this a "creepy" blog? anyone is free to answer. todd told me the pictures are creepy. i think they are artistic. different humans, different opinions.

now the thought. so yesterday i was in hopkins and i took my new laptop (which is weird) and i went out by the pool at a resort in front of the ocean. it was almost like an out of body experience. i was imagining myself as someone else walking out by the pool and sitting down like this was normal life. and really to a good portion of the world.. that is normal life. and not just to fancy people with razor phones and a tan. in fact, oddly enough one of the people i was picturing myself as is a girl i knew at Utah State in natural resources. her name is erin and i did surveys for her in the grand staircase escalante in southern utah. i could see her sitting by this pool, looking a little grundgy, drinking out of her hip thermal mug, laughing with friends and looking over the collected data on her laptop. at home you can find that strange mix of hippy earthy and modern techy... you know.

anyhow, i was thinking how this possibly normal existence to half the world, is maybe the furthest thing from normal for the other half of the world. and now that i have lived in and seen and experienced both sides, how can i ever do either or both again with out feeling at least a little bit weird or abnormal.

and so that explains my current and consistent state of feeling so in between and conflicting and contradicting about just about everthing.