☆ Chloe ☆

★

I never really learned how to just like something, I always let it consume me.

Welcome to my mind, showing you my own perspectives of life through different phases and feelings. Throughout my life, my passions have never stuck. I love one thing today and something completely different the next. Here beholds the one passion that’s never faded, to be so passionate in it that it creates an obsession within me, feeding my soul.

Enjoy.

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Darlin’

I’m writin’ you this letter now, one you’ll never receive.

You see, things have gone down this path i’d never imagined. You’ve got this way about you, where you fight off these things, all these things, and you could never recognize when it was me, when you were doin’ it to me. I’ve loved you every day, with all my heart, even when we’re apart. Now, I’ve left you, and you may not understand, nor agree. And I can’t stop you from becoming somethin’ different to what I’d known. I guess I just never knew it could go this way.

I love you,

Whether you know it or not, whether you understand it to be, or not. And darlin’, I can’t say I’ll ever accept what it’s come to, that I’ll ever sit still with it in my company.

And the thought to not want to miss you any longer, is not one I do want, but it’s one I’ve got to. That if you can not meet me here, then with the setting sun, I’ll have to turn, and ride away.

I’ll never understand, or come to terms with why you’d rather deny me and the truth, why you’d rather stay in that stagnant pool. But I can’t make you do nothin’, and I oughta stop tryin’.

So with this love, I’ll take, and I’ll ride away.

But know, on that dreadful day,

when I had to leave you,

It wasn’t me that wanted to.

Lord knows I’d never want somethin’ like that.

But every time you denied me,

every time you didn’t consider me,

those 11 months where I lost my dignity,

that I wish you could see,

you were the one leavin’ me.

I waited for you endlessly by that tree,

but you never came.

So I hope you can forgive me,

when that tree told me it wasn’t gonna be,

that I could wait and wait but you’d never see,

that I oughta start lookin’ out for me.

But even when I left that tree,

I still didn’t leave,

for, in my pocket, rested a piece of that very tree.

But then again, it’s that pride you’ve got,

that once again will take you away from me.

If I had a buckskin stallion,

I’d tame him down and I’d ride away

And if I had a golden galleon,

I’d sail into the light of day

If I had your love forever,

Sail into the light of day

May 5th, 2025.

And if you did, then you do.

Tonight, I got in my car, to get out of my room,

and I just drove.

Without thinking,

without trying,

I just drove.

And before I knew,

my body knew where to go.

Like I was being called,

drawn by some gravitational force.

As soon as I got there,

I turned the car off,

stepped out the door—

And I ran.

My feet on the forest floor,

I ran as if it were to something,

as if I’d turn the corner

and find you waiting.

I ran until I reached the river’s edge.

And with each deep breath from running,

I cried.

I looked down to where

the water met the sand.

A place that was once mine,

turned ours.

A place that was ours,

turned mine.

And I just started yelling out.

The thing is,

I don’t know why.

And I don’t understand.

I looked at this land,

and as I felt observed,

I didn’t understand.

So I turned toward the trail—

and I ran again.

I climbed the stump

and I told you:

I am Chloe.

I

am

Chloe.

I was.

I have been.

I am.

These trees, these mountains,

this river, and this sand—

they are the places I go to talk.

To you,

and to my river spot.

It knows me well.

It has witnessed itself.

I’ve given all.

I’ve given well.

And it knows—

just as well—

That I am Chloe.

That it sees—

just as well—

What it is

to be

Chloe.

And with the sun setting,

the moon rising,

the clouds forming,

and the wake of night—

I gave myself to that river.

And I gave

with all

my might.

May 4th, 2025.

Rain must pour in order for the green grass to grow.

It was peculiar

Tonight on my walk

Each street lamp came on

But not all at once

No

Each one on its own

As I walked underneath

From one block

To the next.

And each window I pass by

I see another life

And I wonder how it must be like.

The kids in the back of the parked pickup truck

Helping the littlest one up

Something small healed in me,

just then

That I felt I had been them

That it wasn’t so bad

To be them

Back then

And each tree

With a sprouting bud

Instead of a falling leaf

Can II

Huh

Can II

Huh

(paired with the song Can II by Hana Stretton)

April 26th, 2025.

Jenny put the kettle on, and I’ll take tea.

My hair is green, like electric moss. I’d like to go out into the woods to try it out, sit on a rock and just talk.

What would I like to do today? What would I like to do? Where would I like to go?

I don’t think my life is meant for this desk education, for sitting in small or large rooms, staring at a board or staring at you. I think if there’s something I want to do or somewhere I want to go, I should. I mean, what’s this life meant for? What should I strive to get closer to? Money? Is that really what’s supposed to speak to me? Not the world and all of its trees? I’ve learned most my lessons outside, waving a stick like a wand, sometimes a sword, speaking aloud like something oughta speak back, and it does. These are the things that resonate with me, because they’re personal, they’re spoken to ~ me ~, and communicated in ways articulated for me. And this is not to say that it is also not for you, but if it asked you to listen, could you?

Sell my soul, join the rat race, try to find my place, in something that has no space?

I talked to the trees, and this is what they told me;

All your asked answers are in the ground where you place your feet.

All that is known is already found in you and me.

All you need, awaits only for your eyes to open, in order to see.

Its voice in the mountains and the sea,

each with a different tone and inflexions in the way it speaks.

All that is natural, is all that you’ll need.

All that you’ll need, is already free.

Jenny put the kettle on, and I’ll take tea.

February 20th, 2024.

Didn’t I hear you say, ‘It’s alright, It’s alright, It’s alright.’?

I feel stale. I’m not learning, I’m not experiencing anything new. No new ideas, perspectives. I’d like to go, I’d like to figure out how. It’s hard, money is going towards Ireland, seeing my Irish love. I’ve got Clementine, my lovely cat, I can’t just live anywhere. Things are hard. I’m tired of the cold, I'd like sunshine. But what will warmth bring me here? I’d like to sell all of my things. I want nothing, I want to go somewhere where no one knows me. I’d like to see the world naked again, my surroundings. Everything looks clothed and cluttered, a snake that hasn’t shed its skin for a year and a half. My eyes are clouded, my skin is heavy and dry. I don’t find talking very enjoyable, I’d rather listen, but the song of this place in time, this current home of mine, does not offer new words or ways to be heard. I no longer identify with it, not that I ever did. Like a piano song that doesn’t necessarily move me, but makes everything slow, more comprehensive. There’s no build up or releases, just stagnance, not stillness.

I am rotting.

I should sell my things and leave. What about clem? What about fees?

Everything always works how it should. But I must move my pieces in ways that allow movement, openings.

I’m watching the Einstein movie right now, I’d like to meet him, I think we’d get along. I’d love to just sit and talk with him, maybe by a river, maybe in a field of grass.

February 16th, 2024.