and most of all, i miss the wind.

i believe my dad when he talks about spirits.

i believe that they don't exist in a city. 

i believe they are on the prairie, near home. that they dwell in the quiet places of peace. where the soil is good and the wind howls. i believe that they are there for themselves and for us. all wrapped up in one. sometimes i get so lonely here. in this city. like i can't even breathe. i feel like i'm wasting. wasting time. wasting myself. i miss the prairie. i miss the wind there. i miss the smell and the colors. to me, there is nothing else i need to believe. 

i am so terrified about wasting this time. i want to drop everything and go home. walk with my parents along the river. talk to my dad about spirits. about everything. i wish i was done with school and i wish i didn't have such a tie to the relationships i've made here sometimes. it's heartbreak. it's the worst heartache. i can't bare to leave them either, but i can't bare to stay away from my home. 

how do people grow up?

i believe my dad when he talks of spirits.

i believe that they don't exist here in this city.

i believe they are waiting for me on the prairie, near home.

it's heartbreak.

5.365; 6.365; 7.365

 5.365; i hate this.

will revisit the idea on a later date.

 6.365; but i've been a fool and i've been blind.

 7.365; reflection.

7.365; reflection.

4.365

4.365; and the world, spins madly on.

2.365 and 3.365

2.365; there's just devils and dust.

3.365; the sky can't hold it's blue.

1.365 I was dreaming; but I'm ready now.

All rights reserved to Claire Fiedler

This is my first attempt at this. 
I haven't given myself rules. 
I haven't defined a style for the 365. 
It will be what it will be. 
My life, for 365 days.