I woke one morning and it was perfectly clear to me that my life, currently, is a harrowing redux of my world at 19 – fitfully pointing a lens at my world with unconscious intent but too scared to believe in what I see, with no idea how to earn a living and support myself, or how to settle into what I am meant to become. Tonight I realized how ironically apt the comparison is: just like my last days in the family apartment, I even live walking distance from the nightclub (where, I grant you, there is generally less nose candy, and a LOT more knitting, but still…). And I when I see her, I wish with all my heart she had taken more joy and pictures in the life she had.
what is beautiful remains 
Oh Brenna. That was so beautiful.
Oh nineteen, I loved your hopeful optimism, your flexible and able body and your naive vision of the world. I miss you, nineteen!!!!!
Great post Brenna. Is that you in the image?
I recently ran across poetry written when I was 17. The rawness and absolute honesty has never been equalled in the following 40 years.
I recently ran across poetry written when I was 17. The rawness and absolute honesty has never been equaled in the following 40 years.
oh nineteen, running headlong and full-force into one disaster after another, eyes wide-open and not seeing at all. so much drama. so much angst, amid a backdrop of purple haze. oh brenna, you are so right, there are moments when it seems the only difference is the color of the haze these days.
oh. oh, oh.
I wish she had, too.