Karla Cecilia Griffin

I can never explain myself, never get to things at the pace I intend to. I down cold beers even though my fingers are freezing, and pull the sheets up tighter early in the morning when I wake, waiting on the morning light to bask in even though its time time time. Is it so wrong to not give a shit sometimes?

Tonight I eat a push pop and kiss a lot of things goodbye. Tomorrow I'm air bound to Costa Rica, with time only to migrate to warmer climates, soak in light, and return to places and things I've almost begun to forget.

This can only be a good thing

some cold and sad days are around the corner. I'm staying warm and attempting focused, trying to be the most supportive girlfriend, daughter I can be. Tonight, some brewed buttered rum and tears with my mom in the kitchen.. thick and snug oatmeal raisin cookies bigger than my hand too. My just recovered throat, no longer phlegm filled and more manly sounding than my already normal raspy voice, is warmed and cooled simultaneously, much like my heart.

Need these babies in my life.

big old sigh.. life is going going going

Today I am 22.

I am feeling excited about the prospects of life today, and wondering why the hell do we sometimes forget how wonderful this realization is? I have spent my morning sifting through years and years of inspirational photographs, colors, fabrics, including those of others, mine.. simply gaining that revving urge to be productive again.

Today, I paint my nails scarlet red, drink chamomile tea and embrace the cooling prelude of this heat wave, get excited about tights, personal histories, and simple pleasures like olive oil drizzled toast with melted fresh mozzarella, tomato, and basil. By the time the day breaks, I'll have cleaned the house barefoot with the ac on.. driven to the airport to pick up my big brothers' Nana (r.i.p), having spent the evening with hands held and gazes locked, remembering, returning.