Began the day by jumping up from a very deep sleep. The kind where you find your body very heavy. Max and I bucked up a log which had fallen from their yard into the neighbor's. The homelite chain was dull, so we drove to his cousin's work in camillus to barrow the eccho. Chelsea waited at the house for fedex to deliver the check for their new car. By the afternoon I had finally made it to the bee farm. Bickered with my mom about chicken's for a bit, then took off to my brother's place. We rototilled two long rows and planted roma tomatoes, yellow cayenne, and endive. We were feeling experimental, for sure. I saw some dead cows and calves behind the new barns. It was weird feeling numb to the scene. I felt unphased. I took a photo of a calf. It seemed disgustingly peaceful. I am left perplexed.
But then my brother took me up the hill and into a field. I felt I was walking into a dream. Perched between all the hills and holding its ground adamantly sat a stone foundation. Wedged into her own tiny hill, the old soul was slowly crumbling. But it was so beautiful. Her dimensions deep, her footprint open, I longed to pour all of myself into her. Give her three stories, a pond, and my life. I wished I could fill her with all my hopes, and that she would let me gaze down upon the valleys beyond her belly and up into her hidden hills. The fields were her finely formed patchwork skin. She has been abandoned and I long to be the one meant to find her.
However now I realize that it can never be and that I am just embarrassingly confused. I know my dreams. They know me, and I know they are me.
I do not know why I was abandoned, but I long to be found. Who else but me can love something which is so long forgotten? I shall wait patiently and always will be searching the hills for her to return. But I do not know if I hope for it.
Ten years may tell.
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