"At the end of the day, day, you can't regret it if you were trying, if you were trying..."

What if I'm sick and tired of trying?

People ask for honesty, then use it against you. They tell you they want you to be comfortable around them, but then they put you in uncomfortable situations without so much as a thought towards how you feel. They give you their "two cents" after you've made your decision as if it's going to change your mind.

They don't know me very well.

Scare tactics, bullying and guilt trips do not work with me. If you want to know how little they work on me, try one. You'll probably never know what I really think of you, because all you will see is the highest level of politesse and good humour. But trust me, the second you use any of these things on me is the same second I write you off. Completely. And it really doesn't matter who you are. I was not raised on tricks and I will not allow you to manipulate me with them.

If I, in the heights of frustration and stress, being seconds away from breaking down, can still be polite to you and remove you from my ire, you can do the same. Your position or status in life does not excuse you from the fundamental manners that we all (should) have been taught at a very young age. If you suspect that I refuse to put up with anymore of your shit, you're probably spot on. And if you try to pull me back in by being nice to me for a week, go ahead and think you've fooled me. You heighten my suspicion and become transparent. And I will do what is best for me. I don't care how long or short the 'relationship' has been. I don't need a year, or 3 months, or even 1 to know that you are a fucking loser and not worth my time.

I'm going to go away. Far away. For a long time. To make some money, clear my head and get away from you losers.

Panic

I want so desperately to be passionate about something.
Like Susan Orlean in Adaptation
I find I feel nothing more than piqued interest in any one thing.
And I hate myself for it.

I want to know, categorically where I fit in this world
And what my purpose is. And I think that's the only thought that ever
Keeps me up at night. That ever
Makes me anxious.

And tonight as I sat on the crapper, waiting
I thought. And suddenly became panicked.
I dread the thought of doing what I've been doing these past 2 months
For another hour, let alone 2 more months
When my contract ends.

And I try so hard to think
THINK
Of what I could possibly want to do with my life.
(Music? Law? Art?)
That would give it meaning.
That would give me pleasure. And peace.
That I wouldn't get bored with in months and grow sick and tired of suddenly.

Suddenly I remember someone saying that it's
The journey.
That's what makes anything worthwhile.
It's how you get there that makes getting there worth anything.

But I am bored and, admittedly, impatient.
And I want to stay in my bed, or else go to some other part of the world and
Start over.

I feel suffocated. I feel trapped between
What I want (which is what?) and
What I think I ought to do
To be responsible
To keep from burning bridges. To be normal.
To grow up. I don't want to grow up. Not yet.

But it seems I'm here. On that road. On that ride.
And I can't stop it.
And I WANT to STOP it. I want to GET OFF!!
I want to cry. I want to scream.

Then I want to laugh and be happy
And stop making the people around me miserable
Or uncomfortable. Or unsure what to say or how to act.
Or angry and fed up with this
Whiny, self-absorbed, instant gratification-seeking
Child.

Maybe I'm depressed.
Maybe it's this FUCKING WINTER.


Maybe it's just PMS.

It Hurts - Sep. 29/Oct. 14, 2009

It hurts to say
It hurts the way
I love you madly; painfully.

Distracting myself with foolish games,
So I don't seem like I'm waiting.
I want to please you.
Oh, but I need you
To want to please me too.

We are fighters, intensely.
We are lovers, immensely.
You are my flow, I am your ebb
In tandem.

It hurts to say
It hurts the way
I want you madly; desperately.

Oh take my heart in your hands.
I trust it there implicitly.
Don't let me see it broken;
Don't let me see it fall.
Don't let it grow old or grow cold.

I am your other, significantly.
I am your lover, magnificently.
I'll take your pain; share your shame.
I'm all you'll ever need.

It hurts, but oh, it's such a good hurt.
I love you crazily; emphatically; painfully.

Dream #3458221

I see a tapestry of gravel, grass and gray.
There is a building in the background.
It is red brick and clay,
But makes me think of Egyptian pyramids,
For all that it's more trapezoidal than triangular.

And on this landscape are women.
All of them beautiful.
All of them women of power in one way or another,
Though I don't specifically know any of the ways.
And all of them dancing.

There is no music, but all of their movements are
Graceful. And joyous.
And I am among them.

My eyes meet those of a woman I have never seen before.
In truth, I have met none of these wonder women before,
But I feel as though I know them all,
Somehow.
All of them... except her.

She manages to introduce herself by
Planting the image of her name in my mind.

Veranna Xent
(Or something like that. The memory faded quickly after it was born.)

And then she smirks, and is gone.

And we - these wondrous women and I -
All dressed in neutral, flowing dresses,
With our hair tied in various forms of adornment,
Keep dancing.

Hello Sunshine

The next song on the table to put to music with Andy Ribbit:

---

Hello Sunshine,
You have brightened my day.
I wonder where you come from.
I wonder who made you.

Hello Sunshine,
You have led me astray.
Into a life I once knew;
Seemed so much better than it really was.

Sunshine
Will do that.
Sometimes, it takes me back
Into a time when things were fine;
Nothing heavy on my mind.

Thank you Sunshine.
You have taken me there
Into a perfect place;
Into my sacred space.

But Sunshine
Can change you.
Sometimes it makes you think
That you deserve things you should earn.
Makes you petty makes you learn.

Sunshine,
What is taking so long?
Where is my peace of mind?
Where is my summertime?

Sunshine,
Where are you going to?
I didn't see you leave;
I didn't know you weren't happy...

Sunshine, I'm waiting for you
To do the work for me...
Sunshine, I'm waiting for you
To make me life easy;
To make me happy, sunshine.

Sunshine,
I will miss you my dear,
But you are always near.
No need for me to be scared.
Sunshine,
Don't care where you will go,
Cuz I will travel with you...

---

Written June 9, 07

Heartsong (story)

She lays a hand on his back...
To speak to him? Lend him some comfort
For the pain she could not know he was feeling?
She did not know him; nor he her.
Never had their eyes met, even in passing...

But in this moment, once here, bearing an unmistakable air of reality...
In this moment, she knows all she needs to.
Not why she has touched him;
Not even what she will say when the invariable questioning look settles its gaze on her face.
She knows only that she has done the right thing.

And then a strange thing happens...

He breathes a long sigh of relief.
This man, who knows nothing of who has touched him;
Who has no way of knowing the intent of the hand on his back.
He lets out years of tension in that single sigh.
He turns and stares into the eyes of the woman who has freed him.
He smiles and all the hows and whys of it all
Disappear.

They embrace, knowing that, in the other, they have found...
Not what they had been searching for, but...
But....
They know that they have found
Their heartsong.

Torn cocoon

Between the hours of night and morn;
Cocooned in the comfort and the breathy silence.
Cheek caresses pillow.
A sigh: content;
Perhaps the face expresses.

Roll, run, swim, stretch
In the sheets.
Delicious peace;
Tearful happiness.

Torn apart by the mechanical cry.
The repetitive, jarring, unwelcome, mechanical cry:

AWAKE! AWAKE! AWAKE!

Disoriented and seeking solace in the dream

That is no more.

---

Man, I hate waking up.