space.

july 13, 2010

same felt thought comes back (been circling),
been in a holding pattern.
“something is missing.” not missing like, ‘something i had but lost track of.’ (the dust bunnies under my bed report that they have the space all to themselves.) rather, missing like ‘lost in the mail.’ past due. swallowed up disappeared by circumstance. i feel a conspicuously blank space where it’s supposed to be. (a swash of exposed flesh chilled by a draft.) i feel a lack of influence— not a catalyst, nor something so affective as a spot of red pigment in the mix— i’m still moving, still present; but still, something’s still.

playing catch by myself.
can’t seem to get warm.

okay. alright. loss cut. i’d place a new order, but i wonder if the post office even has my current address. maybe my house doesn’t have a number on it. maybe i go deaf when the carrier rings?

white. [ 2008 ]

rustling. [ november 2006 ]

[13 Nov 2006 | Monday]
2:34pm

“shuffle”

(49 songs / old play list / set to random)

(woman driving man sleeping / eels)

my heart is achy today…
it is rather exhausted.
it is missing little pieces…
strong parts worn thin.

(crawl down the wall / editors)

a part of me really does feel small given so many things that have happened, and i hate that because a logical read on “everything” would result in an entirely opposite conclusion. even if there was a direct link between my mind and my chest below my constricted throat, a complete symbiosis— i wonder if, i think i would, still feel this way?

(quiet / beta band)

because logic or no, some things are still disappointing. and maybe that is where the hurt comes from. it doesn’t matter what the reasons are, i am– HA!: (the world has turned and left me here / weezer). it doesn’t matter what the reasons are if i am still left… wanting? even if it is wanting for something else entirely.

which brings me to… this resolution that’s been forming of embracing my independence, and relishing in the fact that it leaves me free to do WHAT I WANT! i am speaking platonically and romantically, for the record.

(you don’t own me / rasputina)
(my itunes appears to be psychic and empathic today)

i still am present wherever i am, and i am 100 percent with whoever i might be sharing my time with. i don’t mean to say i’m feeling “selfish” or “careless,” because i’m not. one of my favorite things remains to give what i’ve got, especially when i can see that someone really needs it. what i am doing is re-focusing my attention, my love, my energy, my caring, towards those who are not complete vacuums for such things. i don’t always need exact reciprocity, but i have needed (for a while, i think, in that perfect retrospect) to cut out those people and dynamics that are simply a drain. it’s time.

(intervention / arcade fire)

hmm, yes. it still hurts while it is healing, doesn’t it?

(cry for everything that’s bad / le tigre)

and yet, achy heart included, what’s next, what has been even recently, feels so much better.

(headlights look like diamonds / arcade fire)

it still hurts while it’s healing. i did put a lot out there. the exhaustion comes from the good, too: poison will make you sick, a feast will make you full—either way you end up in a bit of a coma. and sore.

sleepy. happy. achy.
i need to carry myself to bed, cover myself up, tuck the blankets around tight.

(the crystal lake / grandaddy)
(organ donor / dj shadow)

i could use a little donation. if only so that i can give it back in turn… but like i said, depleted.

(too tired to talk about the feast part, but it’s there too.)

[later that evening . . . ]

10:11 pm

i have this burning desire to shave my head. or just chop most of my hair off. or dye it black. ooooooo, black…… also, it is a good thing i neither own nor can operate a tattoo gun. believe it or not, i am well. i just have the urge to shake myself… hard. to make a bonfire of all my clothes and start again! (too bad it’s raining outside.)

i know where this is coming from… it is my frustration with the way my brain is wired, that i can feel this way that i feel right now no matter what is going on in my life. and so i have these desires to modify my self, in lieu of digging this out of my chest. yanking out that crap wiring. this all makes me especially grouchy when “things” are so good, because it makes me feel robbed of the contentment that “things being good” brings.

it just is. how i work.

it is also a good thing i have (literally) just enough to pay my bills, and i can’t find my back up credit card… otherwise i would dye my hair black. right now!

i wonder how many quarters are in my couch cushions….