Rain’s pouring out of the sky and reminding me of gray cities with bridges for backbones. I’m at work, sitting at the little square table 5 rows from the door that I occupy when there’s nothing to do and no one to serve: There’s a cornucopia of things I want to do for the enrichment of my own personal brain, but I keep getting distracted.
I came to some realizations about things and myself this past month, so here they are in no real order or importance.
1.I’d like to genuinely be all the good things I aspire eventually to be, rather than just be perceived as being them. I’m far being the full person I’d like to grow into, in experience and spirituality. I’m hungry and ready to be filled. When I was younger, I spent time planning out what I’d like to do and be. Time goes so much faster now.
3. My heart is soft and uncallused somehow, but nothing horrifies me anymore.Nothing human feels alien.
4. I need the frivolous things that bring me joy when the world shows more of its dark side. I’m not ashamed of my frou-frou. I like fashion and makeup and weird architecture and being in places that are beautiful to me.I despise “common” and I plan to continue to rebel against it in the most beautiful way I can think of.
I know this is disjointed. I started writing yesterday and got busy half-way through because life interrupted. I’m publishing the shit I write even if it’s terriblah , because that’s the deal I made with myself. Sorry about yer eyeballs, friend.
The moon drips down into my soul and her light illuminates places and moments I’ve tucked away for my own protection. In the easy plateau between asleep and fully awake there are memories that can be accessed by my nearly-conscious mind.( or is it my soul, because I believe that’s both a time as well as a place)When I fully wake I am so heavy with the knowledge of my life, dear and bad, I am sure for a minute that I glow, pregnant with silver-blue light.
I’m waking up with my coffee and the moonlight’s fading away, but some little thoughts stick to me.
~i am not made for suburbia
~have I been so many different people, so many times that when I sleep my soul splits its self into pieces, only to reconvene in the morning?
~ i remember where I lost a doll under a couch , a tan/brown overstuffed one in a living room long dismantled, but the moment is forever preserved, screenshotted.
There’s decent artwork on the walls of the Red Rock coffee shop, this rotation. I’m sitting across from a canvas bearing a painting of a rather interpretive bobcat and baroque doorways in blues and burn umber. It works, wether or not it should. There’s a Meetup of Hebrew-speaking people behind Alvin and I and as we have computers out working on various projects.
Yesterday, Alvin and I got married. We’d talked about it for some time now: I don’t have people, per se. No family to speak of , and my friends are spread out all over the world. His friends and family are in Malaysia. It would’ve taken a bit of effort and so so much time to have a wedding , and it wasn’t important to either of us.We might do something bigger later, but we’re married now. Just like when I got my cat, I committed to feeding his dumb little cat face for the rest of his life, I’ve committed to loving this person and sharing our responsibilities and becoming the best versions of ourselves together, and I’m blissful in this choice.
This isn’t my first marriage: If you know me, you know this. I got married too young to someone who was and currently IS lovely, but because of failings on both of our parts and some general un-ready-ness on my end things didn’t work out. That’s all I’ll really say about that union.While things didn’t explode, but it wasn’t a good match and it didn’t end easily. I’m a very different human now than I was then.(Something that thanks to Faceboook, I’m reminded of on the daily. years ago me was occasionally cringeworthy, fuck) I’ve changed and steered and danced off into the mountains and moved and survived a thousand times since then. There was Jeff, also. How do you talk with any comfort about getting married after a divorce and the death of a partner? It’s not like I’m 40 or something, thats low-key a LOT of baggage for our age. I felt anxiety about announcing anything until afterwards, and perhaps I shouldn’t have felt any. I don’t know. Life is delicate, and i was too indelicate when I was in my twenties not to learn from my many mistakes.
Here we are, though. My husband is a wonderful man. I look at him often and see every facet and am amazed at how how much we both contain. This is the beginning. Here we go, Love.
… Was a martyr. Neither Naked men draped over objects nor heroism born of weakness are the theme of the day : I’m just listening (rather against my will) to Sam Patch, and that song’s lodged itself in my head. I’ve recently taken to employing Spotify to fill my brain with hitherto unconsumed-by-me music. I don’t want to become one of those people who stops enjoying different music because they got hung up on the same 200 songs and have come to believe all music made after *2006 is garbage. Some of the music I’ve heard the past little bit I’ve not loved but I like to think its forging new synaptic pathways.
The past few days I’ve felt insecure, anxious, and existentially bored. At any moment in time, I’m experiencing a dervish of those random-ass emotions and I’m accustomed to them, but the intensity of this row was a bit much. Friendship is hard in a new place and I’ve found that there’s something about me that attracts “tourists”. People who want or need something, want to visit my life and touch me and demand so much without giving. So, I get bored sometimes, because I need people to force me outside my own lines.I just need the people I allow inside my lines to be trust-worthy. My The insecurity and anxiety are just constants, drummed up by insane hormonal fluctuation. FUCK. just carve my uterus out with a grapefruit spoon, I am done.
As usual, my writing this is broken up by the drinking of strangers and the asking of (today at least) some really inane questions. I should pick much better times to open up.
I’ll continue later when I can think.