tell me what it takes to get to you

a vertical wall

writing. the only thing that makes me feel in control. and not so alone. maybe because it forces me to review all that is broken? all that is reality. all of what is happening right now. but it still lets my mind go. i can dream. and once again im dreaming of all the things i shouldn't be. my brain in shuffling through old memories. this current world i live in is meaningless.

i was talking to my old coach, im sick of school i said. Im sick of everything.

she said: Brie your a student athlete, student first. Running is a way to get what you want. Use it! Im so proud of you, you can do anything.

iv forgotten who i am. How have i let this happen? Iv lost some confidence on the way here. I fell and didn't finish brushing off the dirt.

Im Aubriele Fucking Rowe. i run 18's after two years of training.

I teach myself how to surf.

I paint.

Im a photographer.

I have an extensive knowledge of healing foods and health

I wear what i want,

feel how i want,

say what i want.

I love life. when did i become this?

this person that dreads waking up at 6 to run, this person that cant think beyond a homework assignment?

Ill tell you how. Im not following what i believe in. Im not doing what i was ment to do. im not enjoying 100% my life.

And thats how you slowly kill yourself. by doing things you dont bleed 100% of.

its not that i cant live here, i wont for the sake of my life.

Bad, Bad, Bad

big turn offs:

asian guys shoving little debbie snacks in their mouthes

Geology class

So Cal Holister shirts... when you arent from So Cal. Dont do it. shit, i dont even wear them.

cargos

...to be continued

better than geology

So im skipping class to look at surfline webcams and watch 3ft chest highs rolling in the Oceanside Pier, curled up on a bench in the wholefoods cafe, sipping an organic energy drink and looking up surfboards for sale on South Florida Craigs List.

there is something so wrong with that picture.

sometimes i think about those 17:00's but not as often as i should be.

instead im dreaming on the desk,

dreaming about San Francisco dance partys

Berkley trips, my 4th of july in Mexico

My 21st birthday in Vegas

101 runs down the coast

those familiar rollin hills

...My 3000 mile road trip back to California

its sick you know, if you ever plan on moving to Cali dont ever plan on leaving, the songs are true, that california dreamin shit, Phantom Planet WILL be your new best friend, your homesick soundtrack.

i gotta get that 101 back under my feet.

remember what you left, remember why you left.

remember what you came here to do.

remember what you came here to prove to yourself.

remember all the things you did that got you here, and embrace it.

know that your gone, know that this is a new chapter in your life.

know that there are tons of new people you will meet, know there are millions of new things you will experience.

so run a little faster, laugh a little longer, smile a little more, be a little crazier

let go a little sooner

this is your fucking life, LIVE IT

what are you waiting for

I Need You Like A Bad Habit

This morning i almost cried, i had a 30 minute run on the long flat boca sidewalk and never in my life did i think i would miss the long rolling hills behind my California home so much. So as i pounded the florida cement, tears rolled down my cheeks, while the concrete greedily absorbed them.

I never thought I'd miss the feeling of wanting to hurl after reaching the top of a 500 meter hill. Or the feeling of winding quickly through tight elevated trails, hard frustrating, and confusing, but so satisfying to wipe the blood off my knees and finish the damn thing.

break free

If there’s anywhere that could make a California girl feel even further away from home, it would be 4 cold days in New York City. I sit on a big bus, passing broken buildings, broken people, that all have broken little worlds. I guess in a sense I feel ok again. I don’t feel like a rat scampering across a bride’s wedding cake like I do in Boca. My pink elephants are once again hushed. With each pounding step on the cold grey concrete, my worries flee. My heart beats to my pounding footsteps. Dead grey trees claw at Central Park’s winter sky. Shades of glistening blue and cotton candy pink of the Carlsbad shore are replaced with skyscraper navy’s, and gravestone grays. Everyone is just like the last; they are city drones, zombies, in black trench coats and business suits. They work the nine to five; they dine out for breakfast lunch and dinner with their friends. They drink black coffee and smoke cigarettes, then go to whole foods to confess their sins, throwing their sweet tea in the glass-recycling bin. Black homeless men stand on street corners bowing to the icy concrete waiting for anyone’s sympathy. Hustlers push carts dripping with unnecessary items no Local New Yorker would need. Women walk around with their fur coats and tall leather boots, Coach and Juicy rest gracefully on gloved hands. Honest innocents, sinners, prostitutes, crooks, murderers, addicts, homeless all uncomfortably coalesced in a grey melting pot. Suddenly my heart felt heavy, as if it would drop from where it rested in my chest and fall to the icy sidewalk. I imagined some cart-pusher swiftly picking it up and selling it for 20 dollars. My body yearned to run along Carlsbad’s rolling coast, Pushing 50 minutes with 20 to go, sweaty and determined, with the sun high in the sky, the waves rolling in calm and smooth. I yearned to smell the barbeque emanating through the air as I pounded through the camp grounds, I yearned to see the slim surfer boys with their sun bleached hair trailing down there tan backs. I yearned to hear “fuck you dude”, a middle finger, and some obscene music blasting out the window of someone’s truck. Surf racks, cut offs, ray bans, house party’s, the smell of pot, and my brothers dark beer drinking fests held on my patio nightly.

All of this sits on my heart, so heavy and exhausting. Did I make the right decision, is this what I want? Do I want to be stuck in school for 3 more years, only to battle bills and the work force when I get out. I am the anti norm. Tell me what you want and ill do the opposite. So why am I doing this? I want to travel through Africa, Asia, I want to live on the coast of Thailand and dance in Jamaica. I want to sit on the rainforest floor as it rains. I want to explore alternative health and hike, and run and race. I don’t want to work a 9 to 5, I don’t want to live in the United States, bow to Obama and pay taxes. I don’t want to watch people kill themselves on diet soda,fast food, and chemotherapy. I don’t want to have fat, spoiled, American children. I don’t want to go to the gym on Sundays and use the day care. Im above this, I have knowledge, and with knowledge I have freedom.