i know this blog is about emma's amazing adventure but i am currently sick and feel like shiznit so ima write something.
this is a poem once written to me when suns were longer, and nights filled with warmth, comfort, and friendship.
i thought you would find it interesting
the story of a highway
renata told me of a highway
that circled the world
she tried to travel it one night,
headed toward in inkblot
beneath a cellophane sky.
the blot was not empty, not full.
it seemed clear, she said.
i then recalled my own emptiness
and found that yes, it often
weighed more.
when she said she never reached
that dark pupil huddled against concrete
i sighed from relief.
always wake before the blot, i thought.
do not mistake empiness for clarity, i thought.
that pupil cannot see.
this poem is based off of a dream i once had and later told jordana (the poet) about.
make sure to take some time out of your day today and absorb the moments around you...
for within an instant these moments will become memories
love love love