(X-rated for language; Names changed, locations are not but will be in my book)
May 30, 2024:
I’m on my way to Alaska! I hoped there would be a hot guy sitting next to me on the plane so I could give him a hand job like I did the last one on my way to Hawaii. Unfortunately, it’s a chick. Still, I dream…
It feels as if I’m on my way to go thru-hiking since I packed all of my backpacking gear. Instead, I’m going to be working for a few months at Glacier Bay Lodge. My friend, Axle, was the one who inspired me to get out here, offering me to apply for a job through Aramark. It was a big ‘YES’ in my energy field, especially since a group of hikers would be there. I got straight to logistics and half-assed preparation for my adventure. I got drug tested and had to fill out a bunch of online paperwork just to get in. Not my style, but I was still really excited to change up my surroundings. I’ve been doing physical therapy in Chicago, cooped away from anything having to do with hiking, so I was excited to at least be around a bunch of hikertrash like myself.
I had a weird dream last night that I arrived to work at the lodge in Alaska. Axle got me a bunk room with a bunch of boys (I actually did request that in real life). So, they all happened to be really hot, I was trying to secretly fuck all of them, whilst also wanting to get caught and get them mad so they could all angry fuck me. I got with three of them and hid their belts under my covers so the next one wouldn’t see I was acting naughty behind each of their backs. Then, I started giving the fourth dude a blowjob and one of the guys I fucked walked in. He was angry, but unfortunately did not angry fuck me, so I remember feeling really disappointed.
The last week or so before flying out, I worked on a painting of Voodoo, even while I had a professional fashion shoot going on at one point—I had to take advantage of the good lighting. It was all very cathartic and healing. It is crazy how long the healing process is for me, yet quite beautiful because I feel as if I get to feel all of it and that is a gift. Through the making of it, I felt it was one of my last pushes to release him from my mind, seemingly taking the life out of me, yet opening me up to a new beginning.
Before I left the house, I had what felt like a midlife crisis, even though I’m not even 30 yet. My mom dyed my hair and said how I had a bunch of dandruff, followed by letting me know I had more gray hairs coming in, ending her observance with telling me I was getting old. I genuinely liked the silver hair look so when I expressed to her I would just grow it out, she freaked and told me I would look ugly due to my skin tone. She was the type of mother that would think it was a disaster if I had one pimple on my face. Anyways, I took it to heart, because, well, I’m apparently human. I felt the intensity of it. I felt as if I was dying, scared shitless. I felt I was losing my identity. I felt ‘in’ the world, as if I was looking for my worth in it. I felt terrified.
Who is going to love me if I have gray hairs?
Who is going to want to be with me if my skin sags?
Who is going to love me if/when I start decaying?
It is trippy because I know there is no such thing as aging/death, yet I keep looking at the evidence to confirm and validate me. It’s really intense, as it always is and will be when I look to the world for my answers.
I had called Olivija when I was taking a bath, as it seemed I couldn’t even relax with epsom salt and Hope’s essential oils seething into my skin. I told her I would really appreciate some Godly advice, however I wasn’t really resonating with the things she said, either, such as how I need to move out of my parent’s house because they’ll stop treating me like a child when I have a house and a stable man to take care of me. I felt deeply triggered because in my eyes I had moved out years ago, just not into an actual house but into a traveler kine lifestyle. I guess living in an ecovillage and then out of my backpack or working odd jobs that provided lodging wasn’t cutting it.
What if I don’t meet a man in this life?
What if I don’t want to settle down?
What if I don’t want to live in a house, but prefer to wander through mountains, coming and going through different areas?
I told her how scared I felt because I do live so differently and I am not looking for one spot to live (right now).
And can that be okay?
I’d like to travel, and I’m not into just ‘settling down’ with someone just for financial security. I didn’t resonate with the idea that people could only take me seriously if I had those things… Because, what if it never comes in this life for me? Does that mean I’m automatically unworthy? Does that mean I’m not deserving of peace/respect?
On the plane, I pulled out some pictures from my leather notebook. They were printed memories from the JMT with my tramily at VVR that I took with me as mementos. I suddenly recalled how I had asked for an opportunity to work there whilst also making a macramé piece for them as a partial trade. At first they were all for it, but later turned me down. And I just now realized, I received that opportunity right now in Alaska, and I just feel so grateful. Once again, the Universe told me to let go, and the vision I apparently wanted arrived in a way I would’ve never expected. Same as the experience that presented itself at Boots Off Hostel in Tennessee. I loved when people saw me, truly saw me, and trusted me to make them something special from my soul.
So, I’m just going to spit it out. Kugelis, the cat I brought home for my mother, died due to heart failure. Feeling so confused as he was only a little over a year old and was the greatest gift to her heart, especially more so because her kids were no longer home. I really don’t have it in me to go into detail about it right now as it happened when I was landing in Juneau. Great way to begin a trip, am I right? In a way, I think it’s good I got out of the house rather than being in the space of him every day. I’m extremely sensitive to the energy of nostalgia. The main perception I’m struggling with right now is that my parents both seem to be in severe mental pain and who’s to know what his sister cat is thinking. They were glued to the hip and suddenly her brother didn’t come home from the vet. When Paulius told me Dad was crying, it broke my heart because I only saw my dad cry twice my entire life.
I was feeling really victimized when my mom told me. I feel like I’ve been getting hit with what seem to be really intense perceptions, almost daily. The kine where my stomach gets all knotted. The kine where my throat wells up and I can’t seem to find the ‘right’ words to say to bring comfort. Maybe sometimes, no words are meant to be expressed. As soon as I heard about him passing, it felt like a shock to my nervous system and this huge blockage happened. I could feel myself unable to accept information that was being given to me, as if my ears stopped listening. I could feel myself begging the Holy Spirit to take it all back, to reverse time. At the very least, I held onto a small sliver of hope that maybe the doctors got it wrong, waiting for Mom to tell me she was just kidding.
How could something like this be ‘for’ me when I can see my mom in this much pain?
As soon as I write that… I understand it is my pain being reflected from her. I’m using her to make myself upset. I could see that because I called Eloise during my layover.
I said, “I just want and need my mom to be happy in order for me to be happy,” and as soon as I said that, we both just laughed because we recognized the truth of it.
It’s all really convincing—this world and the projections we make. We make the stories and label what is sad, wrong, good or bad. I was also reminded to not trust the evidence of my eyes. My mind believes it and it becomes projected into my outer reality. I convince myself that there is pain and suffering in the world and then it shows me what I think is absolutely ‘true,’ better yet, justified.
I just feel so heavy at times. It feels as if the weight of the world is on me and as if my family depends on me to carry it and see the way out. I mean, I know I am responsible for my perceptions and the people that show up. I can see that, it just feels like I don’t trust myself to see through it yet, as if I don’t have that power or something. I wish I could take the pain and transmute it. I know I can, but sometimes it feels too much to bear.
I arrived to Juneau, ready to be picked up by Axle. Turned out, I still had to take a separate seaplane to Gustavus that I had booked a couple of months back. I seem to have an issue with geography and navigation yet I still seem to make it to my destination safely and on time.
He picked me up at the correct airport in Gustavus a few hours later. It was my first time meeting him in person. He had been following some of my writing for the past few years and we happened to know the same hikers—not a surprise when it came to the thru-hiking community. He was going to be one of the higher up managers of the lodge. He let me know he paid for my mannequin and said I could work in the comfort of his room. I felt loved and appreciated as he made sure I felt taken care of in every which way. I could feel his intentions were pure. Mine, however, not so much. I found I was already feeling afraid I would try to sleep with him and really regret it because I would probably end up sleeping with a bunch of other people, too. It’s what would tend to happen with me when I lost the tender grip on the lustful thoughts that circled my mind.
On the drive to the lodge, we saw a porcupine along the side of the road! I got so excited. He said I could go chase it and take a picture. Obviously, I did. We arrived at the lodge after a short 10-15 minute drive. Where the employees resided, they called it “Brown Town.” Apparently they’ve been calling it that since the 70s, the year in which the structure had been built.
He showed me to my door. I walked in to find my roommate sitting on the bed. Her name was Georgina and I immediately loved her energy. Within a few seconds I gathered she was the quiet, introverted type. I also gathered within the same few seconds we would be really close. Her eyes were sweet and glimmered with excitement.
The rooms in which we were staying had a cozy cabin kine feel. The walls were caramel colored wood, graffitied with names and sentences such as, “I wanna get fucked.” Georgina had hung up paper maps by my bedside to cover up some of the defacement. I thought it was sweet of her to make it more appealing for me, however I didn’t really mind. I was pretty good at looking past shit.
They were in the process of building a new employee housing area since our building was coming apart at the seams, however I felt grateful to receive the older version. Old school and rundown felt more energetically my style. It felt comforting and seemed to be full of stories and energies of people who had wandered through. I enjoyed to ponder on who those people might have been.
I knew I was at the right spot because when I had arrived to Juneau, I saw a woman with octopus patterned boots and when I got to my room, there was an octopus drawn in sharpie on the wall, and so I smiled.
I got invited to a bonfire, so I told Georgina I had to get ready despite being tired. “Because when will there be another fire?!” I exclaimed.
She laughed and said, “Oh, there’ll definitely be more bonfires. They occur almost daily.”
I walked over there, definitely got lost along the way but eventually I saw Axle and he told me to follow the commotion. It was quite overwhelming to walk upon a group of people partying. I felt shy and introverted, so I sat close to the base of the fire, avoiding approaching anyone.
Natasha, one of the HR girls, noticed I was alone so she kept introducing me to the crowd. “Hey! Has everyone met Freyja?!” *does big arm gesture to point at me*
Although intended to be sweet, it got me to retreat even further. I sat alone, surrounded by around 40 people, watching the fire and rubbing my leg. I didn’t mind being alone. I was actually grateful I had that about my personality where I didn’t feel I had to entertain or talk to a bunch of people to fill space and time with empty words.
A guy who was short with curly dirty blonde hair sat next to me. He had a squeaky kine voice and almost a lisp. His name was Dax and I found him to be cute, maybe a potential lover? He conversed with me and made sure to make me feel welcome. I’ll usually do exactly that—sit in one spot until someone comes up to me. I was always open to being approached rather than the other way around. It felt less intimidating.
After about 30 minutes, the energy of the space intensified. People got louder as they maxed out on alcohol in their red solo cups. I took it as my cue to go. I felt I got my intake of socializing anyways so felt it was a good time to head to bed. I did my usual Irish goodbye. Dax followed and walked home with me because he had an early start. Glad he did because I would’ve gone the wrong way.
May 30, 2024:
I’m on my way to Alaska! I hoped there would be a hot guy sitting next to me on the plane so I could give him a hand job like I did the last one on my way to Hawaii. Unfortunately, it’s a chick. Still, I dream…
It feels as if I’m on my way to go thru-hiking since I packed all of my backpacking gear. Instead, I’m going to be working for a few months at Glacier Bay Lodge. My friend, Axle, was the one who inspired me to get out here, offering me to apply for a job through Aramark. It was a big ‘YES’ in my energy field, especially since a group of hikers would be there. I got straight to logistics and half-assed preparation for my adventure. I got drug tested and had to fill out a bunch of online paperwork just to get in. Not my style, but I was still really excited to change up my surroundings. I’ve been doing physical therapy in Chicago, cooped away from anything having to do with hiking, so I was excited to at least be around a bunch of hikertrash like myself.
I had a weird dream last night that I arrived to work at the lodge in Alaska. Axle got me a bunk room with a bunch of boys (I actually did request that in real life). So, they all happened to be really hot, I was trying to secretly fuck all of them, whilst also wanting to get caught and get them mad so they could all angry fuck me. I got with three of them and hid their belts under my covers so the next one wouldn’t see I was acting naughty behind each of their backs. Then, I started giving the fourth dude a blowjob and one of the guys I fucked walked in. He was angry, but unfortunately did not angry fuck me, so I remember feeling really disappointed.
The last week or so before flying out, I worked on a painting of Voodoo, even while I had a professional fashion shoot going on at one point—I had to take advantage of the good lighting. It was all very cathartic and healing. It is crazy how long the healing process is for me, yet quite beautiful because I feel as if I get to feel all of it and that is a gift. Through the making of it, I felt it was one of my last pushes to release him from my mind, seemingly taking the life out of me, yet opening me up to a new beginning.
Before I left the house, I had what felt like a midlife crisis, even though I’m not even 30 yet. My mom dyed my hair and said how I had a bunch of dandruff, followed by letting me know I had more gray hairs coming in, ending her observance with telling me I was getting old. I genuinely liked the silver hair look so when I expressed to her I would just grow it out, she freaked and told me I would look ugly due to my skin tone. She was the type of mother that would think it was a disaster if I had one pimple on my face. Anyways, I took it to heart, because, well, I’m apparently human. I felt the intensity of it. I felt as if I was dying, scared shitless. I felt I was losing my identity. I felt ‘in’ the world, as if I was looking for my worth in it. I felt terrified.
Who is going to love me if I have gray hairs?
Who is going to want to be with me if my skin sags?
Who is going to love me if/when I start decaying?
It is trippy because I know there is no such thing as aging/death, yet I keep looking at the evidence to confirm and validate me. It’s really intense, as it always is and will be when I look to the world for my answers.
I had called Olivija when I was taking a bath, as it seemed I couldn’t even relax with epsom salt and Hope’s essential oils seething into my skin. I told her I would really appreciate some Godly advice, however I wasn’t really resonating with the things she said, either, such as how I need to move out of my parent’s house because they’ll stop treating me like a child when I have a house and a stable man to take care of me. I felt deeply triggered because in my eyes I had moved out years ago, just not into an actual house but into a traveler kine lifestyle. I guess living in an ecovillage and then out of my backpack or working odd jobs that provided lodging wasn’t cutting it.
What if I don’t meet a man in this life?
What if I don’t want to settle down?
What if I don’t want to live in a house, but prefer to wander through mountains, coming and going through different areas?
I told her how scared I felt because I do live so differently and I am not looking for one spot to live (right now).
And can that be okay?
I’d like to travel, and I’m not into just ‘settling down’ with someone just for financial security. I didn’t resonate with the idea that people could only take me seriously if I had those things… Because, what if it never comes in this life for me? Does that mean I’m automatically unworthy? Does that mean I’m not deserving of peace/respect?
On the plane, I pulled out some pictures from my leather notebook. They were printed memories from the JMT with my tramily at VVR that I took with me as mementos. I suddenly recalled how I had asked for an opportunity to work there whilst also making a macramé piece for them as a partial trade. At first they were all for it, but later turned me down. And I just now realized, I received that opportunity right now in Alaska, and I just feel so grateful. Once again, the Universe told me to let go, and the vision I apparently wanted arrived in a way I would’ve never expected. Same as the experience that presented itself at Boots Off Hostel in Tennessee. I loved when people saw me, truly saw me, and trusted me to make them something special from my soul.
So, I’m just going to spit it out. Kugelis, the cat I brought home for my mother, died due to heart failure. Feeling so confused as he was only a little over a year old and was the greatest gift to her heart, especially more so because her kids were no longer home. I really don’t have it in me to go into detail about it right now as it happened when I was landing in Juneau. Great way to begin a trip, am I right? In a way, I think it’s good I got out of the house rather than being in the space of him every day. I’m extremely sensitive to the energy of nostalgia. The main perception I’m struggling with right now is that my parents both seem to be in severe mental pain and who’s to know what his sister cat is thinking. They were glued to the hip and suddenly her brother didn’t come home from the vet. When Paulius told me Dad was crying, it broke my heart because I only saw my dad cry twice my entire life.
I was feeling really victimized when my mom told me. I feel like I’ve been getting hit with what seem to be really intense perceptions, almost daily. The kine where my stomach gets all knotted. The kine where my throat wells up and I can’t seem to find the ‘right’ words to say to bring comfort. Maybe sometimes, no words are meant to be expressed. As soon as I heard about him passing, it felt like a shock to my nervous system and this huge blockage happened. I could feel myself unable to accept information that was being given to me, as if my ears stopped listening. I could feel myself begging the Holy Spirit to take it all back, to reverse time. At the very least, I held onto a small sliver of hope that maybe the doctors got it wrong, waiting for Mom to tell me she was just kidding.
How could something like this be ‘for’ me when I can see my mom in this much pain?
As soon as I write that… I understand it is my pain being reflected from her. I’m using her to make myself upset. I could see that because I called Eloise during my layover.
I said, “I just want and need my mom to be happy in order for me to be happy,” and as soon as I said that, we both just laughed because we recognized the truth of it.
It’s all really convincing—this world and the projections we make. We make the stories and label what is sad, wrong, good or bad. I was also reminded to not trust the evidence of my eyes. My mind believes it and it becomes projected into my outer reality. I convince myself that there is pain and suffering in the world and then it shows me what I think is absolutely ‘true,’ better yet, justified.
I just feel so heavy at times. It feels as if the weight of the world is on me and as if my family depends on me to carry it and see the way out. I mean, I know I am responsible for my perceptions and the people that show up. I can see that, it just feels like I don’t trust myself to see through it yet, as if I don’t have that power or something. I wish I could take the pain and transmute it. I know I can, but sometimes it feels too much to bear.
I arrived to Juneau, ready to be picked up by Axle. Turned out, I still had to take a separate seaplane to Gustavus that I had booked a couple of months back. I seem to have an issue with geography and navigation yet I still seem to make it to my destination safely and on time.
He picked me up at the correct airport in Gustavus a few hours later. It was my first time meeting him in person. He had been following some of my writing for the past few years and we happened to know the same hikers—not a surprise when it came to the thru-hiking community. He was going to be one of the higher up managers of the lodge. He let me know he paid for my mannequin and said I could work in the comfort of his room. I felt loved and appreciated as he made sure I felt taken care of in every which way. I could feel his intentions were pure. Mine, however, not so much. I found I was already feeling afraid I would try to sleep with him and really regret it because I would probably end up sleeping with a bunch of other people, too. It’s what would tend to happen with me when I lost the tender grip on the lustful thoughts that circled my mind.
On the drive to the lodge, we saw a porcupine along the side of the road! I got so excited. He said I could go chase it and take a picture. Obviously, I did. We arrived at the lodge after a short 10-15 minute drive. Where the employees resided, they called it “Brown Town.” Apparently they’ve been calling it that since the 70s, the year in which the structure had been built.
He showed me to my door. I walked in to find my roommate sitting on the bed. Her name was Georgina and I immediately loved her energy. Within a few seconds I gathered she was the quiet, introverted type. I also gathered within the same few seconds we would be really close. Her eyes were sweet and glimmered with excitement.
The rooms in which we were staying had a cozy cabin kine feel. The walls were caramel colored wood, graffitied with names and sentences such as, “I wanna get fucked.” Georgina had hung up paper maps by my bedside to cover up some of the defacement. I thought it was sweet of her to make it more appealing for me, however I didn’t really mind. I was pretty good at looking past shit.
They were in the process of building a new employee housing area since our building was coming apart at the seams, however I felt grateful to receive the older version. Old school and rundown felt more energetically my style. It felt comforting and seemed to be full of stories and energies of people who had wandered through. I enjoyed to ponder on who those people might have been.
I knew I was at the right spot because when I had arrived to Juneau, I saw a woman with octopus patterned boots and when I got to my room, there was an octopus drawn in sharpie on the wall, and so I smiled.
I got invited to a bonfire, so I told Georgina I had to get ready despite being tired. “Because when will there be another fire?!” I exclaimed.
She laughed and said, “Oh, there’ll definitely be more bonfires. They occur almost daily.”
I walked over there, definitely got lost along the way but eventually I saw Axle and he told me to follow the commotion. It was quite overwhelming to walk upon a group of people partying. I felt shy and introverted, so I sat close to the base of the fire, avoiding approaching anyone.
Natasha, one of the HR girls, noticed I was alone so she kept introducing me to the crowd. “Hey! Has everyone met Freyja?!” *does big arm gesture to point at me*
Although intended to be sweet, it got me to retreat even further. I sat alone, surrounded by around 40 people, watching the fire and rubbing my leg. I didn’t mind being alone. I was actually grateful I had that about my personality where I didn’t feel I had to entertain or talk to a bunch of people to fill space and time with empty words.
A guy who was short with curly dirty blonde hair sat next to me. He had a squeaky kine voice and almost a lisp. His name was Dax and I found him to be cute, maybe a potential lover? He conversed with me and made sure to make me feel welcome. I’ll usually do exactly that—sit in one spot until someone comes up to me. I was always open to being approached rather than the other way around. It felt less intimidating.
After about 30 minutes, the energy of the space intensified. People got louder as they maxed out on alcohol in their red solo cups. I took it as my cue to go. I felt I got my intake of socializing anyways so felt it was a good time to head to bed. I did my usual Irish goodbye. Dax followed and walked home with me because he had an early start. Glad he did because I would’ve gone the wrong way.
