the dirt & senseless beauty

i've shut up about the climate since i moved out east to what is basically an artist commune for burned out "genius" kids. but today as i looked up at the sky that was orange from the wildfire smoke from the drought-ridden west coast while i watched my own little river flood its banks i was reminded how much i love this world and how furiously i want to protect it. i found an old (2019) newspaper article about minnesota youth & climate protests and i saw pictures from protests that i was at and i wondered where the spark went. there is, of course, activist burnout, but i don't think i did anywhere near enough for it to be that. i fear it is just what you'd expect: the moving of a trend. 

when i was sitting on a large fallen tree with ema a week ago, she reminded me that nature holds grief. its something that's slipped my mind since i abandoned the woods in favour of a steady job and an education. i'm once again working on clearing out my room and entire entire life up until now and the windows are open and the smell of the rain is reminding me how sweet the wild is. 

when i was deciding on colleges, i had the biggest difficulty deciding whether i wanted to go west or go east. i eventually decided on going east, and i think that was the best decision, but now my hungering for just fucking off to the east coast has been replaced for a hungering for fucking off the the west coast. we are simple & discontent creatures, aren't we.  

i am content with the life i'm living now. it fucking sucks and i'm miserable half the time, but there's something really, truly beautiful about that. i'm alright with everything sucking. i fucking miss being covered in dirt & just collapsing into my old, ratty sheets on hot & humid summer evenings, though.