MacKenzie, on a whim

Today was a beautiful day in Fiji. The sky was grey all morning and it rained from the early afternoon, through the whole night. But we were surrounded by people who like us, who care for us, who take good care of us. Matt is from England. He is tall and hefty with a bit of a receding hairline, blonde hair and blue eyes, and the most familiar face you've ever seen. He speaks the world of his father but never mentions a mom. Back at home he lives in a huge house with all of his siblings, their significant others, their children and, of course, his father. He loves cooking. In fact, he cooks for us often. He asks only for a few bucks towards groceries and refuses any help. He's a good cook. He talks a lot, and often about himself, but he explained to me once, on the mattresses on the floor during movie marathons, that he isn't bragging, he just wants people to know who he is and what he's about. He is very genuine. This morning the three of us walked up the road to Je...

They've been telling me to find the light since I had the nerve to stand up there alone. They say that not all those who wander are lost, But most of us are. I'm still chasing the sun, following it all the way around the world; burnt cheeks and stiff skinned. Chilled under the glow of Fiji's full moon It's a different one than you see and it doesn't feel so close. Home is just a thought, but what of unhome? neverhome? What of love, what of you? Forever the girls, they all know what you mean Well at least he isn't drunk and falling off the stool this year.

Kenz,       It is good to hear from you as I am a worry wart and worry about all my children. I read your blogs and your words are so beautiful and I can picture you in a wonderful place. You sound happy and at peace with where you are and where you are going. I know you have been struggling for a while with decisions of the future, but you need to live your life for you and no one else. The answers will come, be patient and listen to your heart and your sound mind. People will give you a lot if advise and you can listen but they don't know the woman behind the face. You are beautiful, smart and such a good person with a kind soul. I miss you for the person you have become and the beautiful butterfly that is forming. Love you so much,         Your Shirley mama

Pitch black living night waiting up past the party goers for a paragraph or nothing at all salt water down my cheek in my hair soaked into my skin here, they tell me it heals all Shaking scared at the voices in my head or is it only the voices in my headphones that aren't yours frighteningly foreign. playing with my hair pretending to watch your hands feeling mine twist the curl behind our head salty, sandy, similar heads smelling like dirt softer than that sing me a song? there at the end of the day waiting to sit in silence together can't you please make me feel safe again during this thunderstorm? I'm all alone in the dark, been waiting too long wrap me up in the back of that truck I need to get home safely. I never even noticed that your grammar was bad. hear my laugh in the background there's your whisper through the song our secrets permeated. The song ends and they disappear.

"I just feel lost. I don't know what I want to do with my life either so its hard, like, New Jersey just doesnt seem to have much to offer. But I guess if you want to make something work you make it work. All normal things I suppose. Just the timeless question of Who am I, what do I want to be, what do I want to do." "Yes midear.. those are always the doosies. I would say that you are love, you want love, and want to love; the unconditional, non-witholding kind."

How did we get here from forever talks to never return? Didn't you mean it when you said through the hard times? Where have you been since they began? It seems neither of us know anymore what we want or mean, but please don't lose me. I guess you can't settle down without settling. I don't want those nightmares coming true, a world destroyed, you're no where to be found, I already can't find you December is months away. The love that they grew in the summer Froze.

This morning Stiff back and sandy carpets A Scott sleeping on couch cushions in the common room As the married man sneaks out of a private room. Folded flowers and phony phone calls Why did you want to waste an hour and a half Giggling with us on the floor? Happy Saturday night and all I feel is more confusion. My brain is swollen from too much salt, we skipped cake for this and now that old song is on repeat again. Technical difficulties, man, you're telling me. The room is dark and I am watching your face and sometimes mine on a small screen Just trying to feel closer, stale mouthed, I am dying to feel your hand on my cheek as it was just there in that moment. But you won't even go home for me You'd rather the drunken Moose and I'm left, not alone, but with helpful voices of men in the places I want to be So who will the fault belong to when I don't return?

The truth is I could fall forever continuously losing my breath as I see the water approaching. Its a matter of whose at the bottom waiting to catch me, swim out, carry me ashore, push me off the edge again. It's all about what you do with it whether or not you ride through the rain around the bend even when it seems your tires won't make it. How long until I'm yours or mine what can I be in the meantime? Besides endlessly falling And I still don't understand what I am besides in transit Who I'll be when I stop running from myself Everything else, and everyone. Maybe that's what everyone here is, sleeping on bunkbeds, showering in cold water, singing songs at the kava circle. I've realized it's what I don't want to be I don't know how to escape it. I've been down for a few days now I don't mind it down here, it won't be long until I'm up again,  laughing downstairs wit...

On our second day here in Nadi a tall skinny beautiful blonde woman arrived. Alyssi, or Alison, I'm not sure which to call her because she goes by both. We were already in a low point coming down from the best 4 days of our lives in Haliewa and had felt a bit intimidated by the unwanted attention from men in the airport and on the beach.It is very easy to be afraid of the unknown. Anyway there we sat in the office of our hostel when she walked in. Right away she began speaking to us about going to the disco tonight, Adam would drive us, and it would be fun. She told us about living in a Fijian village and warned us against the dangers here. She told us to never use ATMs, not to wear jewelry out in public, and never look men in the eyes. She said not to smile at men or out in public and scared us away from even walking across the street to another near by hostel. She told us stories of almost being raped and beheaded in her village, and that she always had a body guard with he...

"The thoughts, they come like waves, sometimes heavy and intense, and other times light and calm. I am here always." "So in Hawaii I learned to respect the ocean, which meant diving in and letting the waves take you as they wanted to, you can't fight them. You have to accept that the ocean is infinitely stronger than you and it will take you where it wants. Do you do the same thing with those thoughts? And if so, how do you let the heavy and intense thoughts overcome you without sulking in negativity?" "Absolutely. Except, once you realize that you can float..the waves sort of just carry you. You don't have to assign value to them, good or bad, just another wave. Some people can do more than float.. they ride those fuckers. I've yet to find one powerful enough to carry me as far as I'd like."

Blew my mind. I don't know who I am anymore, what I want, what I know. The North Shore was unlike anything I ever experienced and now that I'm not there anymore, all I can think of is getting back there. All the comforts of home but you're in paradise. Who am I when I'm not there? Part of me is missing, so many parts of me are missing. I want our little family, papaya banana smoothies every morning, doing yard work in the rain, spoil me with bread and a swim in 3 tables. Haleiwa is heaven and that's all there is to it. How could I be happier than hurling myself off Jump Rock in Waimea, hiking up the Boy Scout trail and picking my own strawberry guavas, trying to keep up with ya'll under water. I belong in the back of a pickup truck because it is a wonderful life and I deserve skies of blue, clouds of white. Surrounded by the people from home who all got out. I am not the kind of person who stays, I just am not. I'm the kind of person who walks down to S...