Friday, March 30, 2012

stardate -310755.7188891419 (simply a life update)

This post is mostly an update of life for those radiating out from the center of my universe, San Diego. Those that I don't always get the luxury of talking to on a regular basis...  Life continues on and the pace just seems to keep on. Change seems to be constantly afoot.  I am currently sitting at Twiggs, had breakfast, which I would have preferred Ian to cook, but Tony does fine.  Still prefer the mushroom omelet from Ian, sigh.  I digress.  I am listening to a mix of music on my ipod called "messed mental mix."

Mostly of the last couple of weeks, LOTS OF WORK. It is a good thing, but makes me a bit of a nutter as I get close to the end of it.  Again the challenge of learning how to manage life with Thurston and the drive to work all night actually creates more work.  I haven't had too many dreams of late, as I am just plain tired by the end of the day.  I dreamed of chickens last night. And not in a good way either. I woke up a little disturbed and wishing that I could go back to sleep for another couple of hours.

My work at Congregation Beth El is continuing to expand. I like the people I work with, I dislike the mania/drama that surrounds the work.  That will change in time as I get more definitive processes in place that  will in turn, create a sense of stability and continuity for me and my coworkers.  I never ever knew how much drama there could be.  My family thinks I am drama, hold on to your hats folks...very wealthy Jewish congregants are SO DRAMA. It makes me look damn near stoic.  It is a twist on the silliness known as my life.

I continue to be the wendy bird at Adams Ave Bicycles. It still remains the tribe of lost boys. We recently incorporated the team that we have, and I am quite excited that I will be doing the books for the team.  We have (had...olympic now) a junior world champion on our team (Jen Valente) and besides it is this kind of work that makes me happy and feel like I make a small contribution to something fun, different and in its own small way, important.  Besides I know so many people who do race under this flag, it is feels good to support them in a way that I am knowledgeable.  That was apparent at the first board meeting and several of the guys were so enthusiastic in wanting me to handle a variety of work for the team.  Some of these guys are pretty acerbic in their manner, style and words, so it was a huge compliment to me.

I realized recently that I have been in weekly sessions of therapy for a year solid.  The work has been intense and very hard. The progress, well frankly amazing.  The head space that I am in now verses where I was a year ago is remarkable.  I still have extreme rounds of anxiety, I still over analyze everything, I am still drama.  The difference is that I am learning how to not act on all of it.  Trying to respect my feelings, yet temper them, if only by waiting to have reaction/action even if only by 10 minutes.  I am learning control, patience, and restraint.  This is really hard, when many of my behaviors are in reality a form of compulsion. When I do feel like I need to act, I at least try to have a level of honesty about it, and not feel shame for having taken the action.  I also have realized that I don't hate myself as much as I once did.  This is the newest iceberg to start to crack and melt.  I still am fearful of sounding arrogant or having no humility.  I struggle with understanding that you can live without the extremes of this, but I really have only seen the extremes in mostly others and in myself.  I have been examining much about my patterns in relationships with people, and the reasons for those choices.  Again, this work is really hard for me.  I may have a bad day or a bad week, but I get up every day and try again.  I think this stuff is pretty evident in much of the writing that you see here on the blog.

The part perhaps you were all waiting for on baited breathe!!!!  Thurston.  Thurston is doing quite well.  In fact today is the last day of school before we have a four week break.  Thurston's school is year round.  Kindergarten has been a mixed bag. He is doing quite well behaviorally. He makes friends pretty easily.  He is learning to read, basic math etc.  Unfortunately, i recently tried to get him into a private school (that I went to) and as part of the application process they had to do an academic assessment.  It was awful.  He basically failed it.  I know that sounds harsh, but I know no kinder way to put it.  I have sheltered Thurston from the knowledge of this, but I found it devastating.  I feel as though I have failed him. My sisters, who are reading this, know that they have tried to comfort me, give me sound advice regarding education, appropriate developmental levels, the test is not reflective of cognitive abilities etc.  In some ways that does help.  I recently entered into a conversation with yet another private school here in town, and actually discussed having Thurston repeat kindergarten.  I am terrified of him moving forward without the fundamental skills that are needed for the rest of his educational process.  To actually admit that was hard and humiliating. I know that I should not feel that way, but I do.  I am ashamed of the fact that I am that prideful.  My child is an extension of myself still.  I know that separation must occur at some point, but it hasn't happened yet.  It feels as if it is another failure on me in my life.  Even writing this is painful. I have such a smart child, yet he is not excelling in this arena where in theory he should.  I am not really sure why I did as well as I did academically.  I also don't have it in me to do what my parents did to me.  It was so structured and rigid in so many ways. I want Thurston to be more well rounded and adaptable than I am.  Well, all of this with Thurston's education is very much in process.  I will update as I have more information.

You have been quite tolerant with the long update. I don't really write on the blog a lot this way, but well, I feel like writing. I have some really heavy writing that will eventually make it up, but not ready yet for it to be seen.  Oh...one last thing....Been thinking a lot about this lately...If I have told you that I love you. I am telling it to you again right now. When I tell somebody that I love them, it is forever.  Even if we have quarreled and don't speak again, I still love you. In my heart love is transcendent. It is not about sex, or relationships or marriage. Every person whom I have told that I love has a piece of my heart eternally. With that said. I love you.

Peace. 

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

waking dreams past


http://youtu.be/te7RZ6S6FK4

i had no intention of writing on the blog today/yesterday
whatever. it is 1.45am
still my fucking blog when last checked

my dreams, my fantasies have been consumed
with the present
with the future

i drifted off and was precariously
balanced in a fantasy land of insecurity, hope and present
with lists of questions

was woken
not only brought into the present
but confronted by the past

not the painful past
the beautiful past
the past that was good
the past that still can be at the front of my mind
if i were to allow it to be

i want to reach out and touch that past
but what of the present?
the present that seems to have the possibility of so much more

i have already confronted this past
made peace with this past
how do i confront this present?

how do i make sure i am not being used?
taken advantage of?
relegated to simply convenient because i am understanding rather than demanding?
what unknown baggage is being brought in?
are bombs lingering in the baggage?
how do i trust a connection, a desire that has been lying dormant from the past until present?
is it instinct?
is it faith?

do i even know if the present is possible?
i crave and dream of the strength to be honest and find out.
you are my present.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

A letter I haven't been able to write

Dear Mamalene,
Nary a day goes by that I don't think of you.
I am once again trying to write a letter to you.
Maybe now I have the strength through my tears and trials
to write you.

I admittedly am trying again because of conversations of death with my friend the last couple of days.
Already in tears tonight, so what is a little more dampness, right?
(I hear you once again telling me how strange it was that I got all the Jewishness for our family)

I miss you horribly.
I have needed you so badly the last three years.
I could have used your wisdom and experience.
Only you in our strange yet loving family lived as I have now chosen.

Your great grandson is so beautiful.
He amazes me every day.
His love.
His compassion.
His humor.
He even knows he is Jewish now.
And occasionally uses a Yiddish word.
with the guttural "ch" right.
Sometimes even posesses your capibility for painful truth coupled with delightful indulgence of silliness.
It is a great sadness that I carry that you never got to meet him.

You asked me before you died to promise to watch over your  son.
I am struggling with that task.
I am so sorry for letting you down.
Daddy and I love each other, but have been at odds for several months now.
I will keep trying because i promised you. and because i love him.
Please forgive me for my failings in this task.

If I close my eyes I can
taste the crackers with swiss cheese and pickles and a glass of wine
I can almost still hear your voice, but it is faint.
I can almost become a child again sitting in the monte carlo
laughing with you
the turkey tamale pie
the crab louie
and those small rock shrimp you loved.
even the vodka and orange juice.
the wonderful indulgence of letting me watch old black and white movies over and over.

So clearly I see the interior for the apartment on Evergreen Terrace.
And the modern fireplace you had.
all our dates.
the tinkerbell cup with the built in straw.
you used to let me blow bubbles in my milk.

I don't know that I can write more.
i can barely see the monitor.
I love you so much.
I miss you so much.
You live in my heart and mind forever.

It is not your yahrzeit yet but you know I have never been conventional.

Yitgadal veyitkadash shemei raba be'alma di vera chir'utei,
veyamlich malchutei bechayechon uveyomeichon uvechayei
dechol beit Yisrael, ba'agala uvizman kariv, ve'imeru Amen.
Yehei shemei raba mevarach le'alam ule'almei almaya
Yitbarach veyishtaback veyitpa'ar veyitroman, veyitnasei,
veyithadar, veyitaleh, veyithala shemai dekudesha, berich hu,
le'ela min kol birechata veshirata, tushbechata
venechemata da'amiran be'alma, ve'imeru Amen.
Yehei shelama raba min shemaya vechayim, aleinu ve'alkol
Yisrael, veimeru Amen.
Oseh shalom bimromav, hu ya'seh shalom aleinu ve'al
kol Yisrael, ve'imeru Amen.





Your eternally loving Granddaughter,
Nicole

sdileye ym fo kcab

what do you see when you close your eyes?
do you see black?
or do you see lights?
do you see colors?
do you only close your eyes for sleep?

i see colors
geometric shapes
that swirl, contort and dance
if laying in the park during the day
the colors become more brilliant
green seeps in as the prominent color

the gyrating geometric is a diamond pattern
sometimes with a single large dark shape
that seems burned into my retina
the large black shape eventually rotates
collapsing in on itself
bleeding out the diamond pattern

i am fixated on watching
certain moments i can control
the ebb and flow of the movement
but not always
slowly
eventually
i drift into other thoughts
and become consumed with them

it is at those times i can fade into sleep
i have watched this show since i was a small child
it brought me comfort
when told to sleep and i couldn't

as i relax and release my restraint
and my will
the show becomes more spectacular
now my subconscious now holds the power

the thoughts
that overshadow the show
are magical
it is here
i love
i hope
i dream
i believe

it is here the thoughts are reality

Friday, March 23, 2012

kiss

chest to chest
heart pounding
i bite my lower lip
mouth slightly open
hopes of just a little more air
to try to clear head, then body takes over wholly
or maybe pure spirit
breathe. stop shaking.
all i can see is your mouth
your lower lip.
the fullness
the lines on it, like fingerprints
body operating of its own accord
i lean in
gently touch my lips to yours
the incredible softness
your slight response
that turns deeper
with both of my lips i kiss your beautiful bottom lip only
then retreat
again both lips on yours
mouth still slightly open
hoping to breathe the tiniest bit of you
into my lungs

My Old Blog...chaos at the small purple house

So I have had a bunch of weird activity on my old blog.
Some legit, some that gives me cause for concern.
The referring url was a prostitution website out of Slovinia.
I wasn't happy about that.
I have now made my old blog private as well.
Good news...pretty much anybody reading this blog probably already has permissions on my old blog. If you however got an invite...know that it was because I saw that you weren't already in the permissions area.  If for some reason you cannot get onto the old blog, email me, text me, facebook me, and I will add you in.
 I will not be putting new posts on that blog, but I am not interested in getting rid of it. It is interesting and wonderful documentation of a life I used to live.
My new is my life is represented in this blog.
I can't have nor want the old life. I have moved on, but I am still proud of much of my past.
love.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Day 2 is killing me

i cannot escape the overwhelming sense of dread. i am no pollyana. quite the opposite. i am, at my lightest and most humorous, sardonic and self deprecating. I prefer to wear black and gray. i find myself at times living with fear that manifests as unfocused anger. anger that is difficult to dispel. only to go back to this sense of dread. what i find comfort in is few and far between. i spend most of my time living in a land of heavy responsibility. i blame no one for that, except myself. so when i am presented with an opportunity for enjoyment, i cannot escape the dread feeling that it will be yanked from me before i even can get there, in turn crushing my spirit. too many times this has happened, so i am reluctant to embrace optimism to see it through. it is extremely sad and frustrating that what i do to support myself and my son does not bring me much joy or pleasure. opposed to, work i could immerse myself in completely. i seem unable to transform that piece of my life at this point. at times i really want somebody to tell me that it is all worth it. that it will all be ok. again, i have had to much experience in the past with having a partner never be able to tell me that. never to reassure me. although i do believe that we should be able to give that to ourselves, it is nice to have a bone thrown to us once in a while. it is life affirming. as if for a small moment somebody else really does care. day 2 is kicking my ass. even listening to langhorne slim station on pandora. it is barely lifting my spirits. the best i can say is that i continue to get up every day, and i keep trying. i will die trying. or just keep listening to this song till it kicks in.

http://youtu.be/OmtlqB0x

Well it's all right, riding around in the breeze
Well it's all right, if you live the life you please
Well it's all right, doing the best you can
Well it's all right, as long as you lend a hand 

You can sit around and wait for the phone to ring
Waiting for someone to tell you everything
Sit around and wonder what tomorrow will bring
Maybe a diamond ring
Well it's all right, even if they say you're wrong
Well it's all right, sometimes you gotta be strong
Well it's all right, as long as you got somewhere to lay
Well it's all right, everyday is judgement day 

Maybe somewhere down the road aways
Youll think of me, and wonder where I am these days
Maybe somewhere down the road when somebody plays
Purple haze
Well it's all right, even when push comes to shove
Well it's all right, if you got someone to love
Well it's all right, everythingll work out fine
Well it's all right, were going to the end of the line
Don't have to be ashamed of the car I drive
Im just glad to be here, happy to be alive
It don't matter if you're by my side
Im satisfied
Well it's all right, even if you're old and grey
Well it's all right, you still got something to say
Well it's all right, remember to live and let live
Well it's all right, the best you can do is forgive
Well it's all right, riding around in the breeze
Well it's all right, if you live the life you please
Well it's all right, even if the sun don't shine
Well it's all right, were going to the end of the line 

- the traveling wilburys

Saturday, March 17, 2012

momentary calm

today has been  pretty mellow, all the way around.
the rain has that impact on me and my psyche.
there is this need to just stay inside.
to nest.
so i did.
i only ventured out to get my hair cut.
i now have swoopy bangs. i think i like it.

thurston and i slept in very late.
both of us needed it.
i am hopeful of a repeat performance.
i cooked. i rested.
i visited with a good girlfriend.

we looked at old pictures.
we talked of love.
we talked of passion.
we wondered about those in our lives.

i remained calm.
i like it when calm shelters me with a warm blanket
over my moods.
i even cat napped at little at one point.

i know i have a crapload of work to get done.
i just needed one day to not have to
rush
accomplish
plan
worry
not necessarily in that order.

thurston remained in his pajamas all day.

Friday, March 16, 2012

writing as a passion

i have been pondering the question of passion.
my dad said to me when i was in my early teens
"if you were truly brilliant at something it would manifest at a young age."
I remember thinking, that is crap.
it is still a thought that i hear over and over.

through time I have seen people, who seemed so effortlessly  to know exactly
where they wanted to be and what they wanted to do.
what they had a driving passion for.

me. not so much.
i have been thinking a lot about it again lately.
what do i like to do pretty much any time??

i write.
i love to write.
it is crazy that i write for no one but me.
it is the piece that keeps me sane.
the piece that brings me comfort.

i get that i have an unconventional style.
a few people of late have been encouraging me to submit certain pieces for competition/submission.
i think about it.
i have a fear of another person editing my work.
my writing is my thoughts.
i don't have any desire to have somebody edit my thoughts.

i don't need somebody messing with them.
i write for personal gratification rather than monetary reasons.
this arrangement suites me.
in this tiny arena, i am beholden to no one.

there are people who can beautifully paint the mundane.
people who are inspired simply by the life around them.
i hope i fall into that catagory.
perhaps my son will have some idea of who i am from my writing.
the person i am, instead of his mother.
the person who attempted to be conscious and document her experiences and the emotion that surrounded them.

(listened to jazz standards mix)

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

i am

i really dislike struggling to breath.
it spikes my anxiety and makes me short tempered.
i am more likely to be less patient with thurston.
i wish i could say that i am eager for sleep, but i can't lay down as i start wheezing severely.
i have not had an asthma episode like this for 3 or more years.

i feel lack luster.
i have spent much of the day fighting off tears.
i hate crying in public and when at twiggs today ian put his hand on my arm, i couldn't stop the tears.
crying only makes it worse.
i have become accustomed to a lack of human touch.
i cried anyways.

i know that i am not alone.
i know that i am not a horrible fuck up.
but that is how i feel much of the time.
that i just can't ever seem to get it right.
i try so hard.
yet i just hear being told "you try too hard" by another.

patience, control, restraint.
patience, control, restraint.
patience, control, restraint.
patience, control, restraint.

i have been plagued with thoughts i hoped i had been able to dispel.
apparently not.
be positive. try to be positive. fake the positive.
don't put negative thoughts out there.
i try so hard not to think them.
then i just end up in that head space.

it is ironic that when i try to stop the thoughts my breathing become so belabored
yet when i think of funerals my chest opens up, air gets in and calm happens.
but it is just for a brief minute.
these are not what i am supposed to think.
these are not what i should think.
probably could insert cheap trick's dream police song here.

i debate for hours whether or not to even write this.
but this MY BLOG. i can write whatever the fuck i want.
i feel convinced these days that many must think of me as nuts.
if you do, then you don't know me, really.
i am impulsive
i feel regret and shame when i act upon it.

i am this person. i work to remember the best of these traits instead of the worst.
i would give the shirt off my back for somebody.
i am impulsive
i am smart
i am analytical
i am raw
i am sensitive
i am emotional
i am passionate
i am tactile
i am loving
i am forgiving
i am creative
i am unfulfilled
i am seeking
i am intense
i am spiritual
i am ritualistic
i lean towards hedonism
i am anxious
i am imaginative


Sunday, March 11, 2012

body odor, garlic & yeast

so tonight was full of diy punk.
i love diy punk.
i simply love it.
the rawness the imperfection the ridiculousness.
it is in between bands playing.
people mingle. people get drunk.
people wish to go home with somebody walking around.
i don't
i drink a beer and maybe one more.
and another crappy band comes on stage with more courage than i can muster.
i can't bring myself to be on stage.

i no longer can discern the lyrics
my ears now dull due to volume
i cant hear anything but the regular 1234 beat of the drum.
i feel it resonating through my body and even more through my heart.
it pulls me.
it calls me.
it tears me apart.

there is no way to actually hear the words to the song.
i can only hear the deep base of the music.
the lyrics are completely gone.
yet i am drawn deeper in.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

music

list of songs that i simply couldn't live without:

Edge of Living, RVIVR
Breathe Out, RVIVR
Grandma, RVIVR
Restless, Rumbleseat
Babooshka, Kate Bush
Moomer Fus 3, Motion Pictures
You Said Something, PJ Harvey
Beautiful Feeling, PJ Harvey
Missed, PJ Harvey
Rub it 'til it bleeds, PJ Harvey
Black Hearted Love, PJ Harvey & John Parish
Shelter, The XX
The World's a Mess. It's in my Kiss, X
Pictures of Lily, The Who
White Girl, X
I Can't Explain, The Who
In the Garage, Weezer
Kiss off, Violent Femmes
Beginning to see the light, The Velvet Underground
Rock and Roll, The Velvet Underground
Bright Lights Big City, Them
Nothing to you, Two Gallants
Fail hard to regain, Two Gallants
Breakdown, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
New York City, T-Rex
Children of the Revolution, T-Rex
Decatur, Sufjan Stevens
Chicago, Sufjan Stevens
Speak like a Child, The Style Council
1969, The Stooges
Silver>blue, Thurston Moore
Everybody wants to rule the world, tears for fears
Change, Tears for Fears
Pale Shelter, Tears for Fears
This must be the place (naive melody), Talking Heads
Shadow of a Doubt, Sonic Youth
Dirty Boots, Sonic Youth
Madonna, Sean and Me, Sonic Youth
This Charming Man, The Smiths
What Difference does it Make? The Smiths
1979, Smashing Pumpkins
Drown, Smashing Pumpkins
The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine, Simon & Garfunkel
The 59th Street Bridge Song (feeling groovy), Simon & Garfunkel
Anji, Simon & Garfunkel
I am a rock, Simon & Garfunkel
America, Simon & Garfunkel
The Past and Pending, The Shins
Open up a window, Sean Hayes
Deutscher Girls, Adam & the Ants
The Ghosts of what should have been, Owen
In the morning before work, Owen
All is a game, Nada Surf
Blankest Year, Nada Surf
Wizard Sits, Mutoid Men
Rum to Whiskey, Murder City Devils
I'll come running, Murder City Devils
Don't waste another day, The Muffs
Everywhere I go, The Muffs
I'm Straight, the modern lovers
i wanna sleep in your arms, the modern lovers
astral plane, the modern lovers
born on a saturday night, mean jeans
so tonight i might see, mazzy star
lazy, love and rockets
every word means no, let's active
be set free, langhorne slim
blown your mind, langhorne slim
aint proud, langhorne slim
colette, langhorne slim
worries, langhorne slime
lola, the kinks
apeman, the kinks
nothing in this world can stop me worryin' bout that girl, the kinks
beautiful boy (darling boy), john lennon
nobody told me, john lennon
Jane Says, Jane's addiction
Mexico, James Taylor
Tramp, Otis Redding
the passenger, iggy pop
Reverend's Revenge, the housemartins
me and my arrow, harry nilsson
lime in the coconut, harry nilsson
strict machine, goldfrapp
clowns, goldfrapp
little bird, goldfrapp

Well...this moronic list (which is not in any specific order) is a product of a freaking 12 hour workday and to get it all done...drinking 16oz of coffee at 4.30pm.  this is just the ridiculous tip of an iceberg,  i want to keep assembling this list, but really, who wants to read this shit? If i were super clever, i would attach a link for each song to youtube or something so you could hear it. HA!  i am just gonna start compiling a playlist for the ipod.


Wednesday, March 7, 2012

just more.

Tonight i sit here calmer than the last few nights but we will see.

i have no reason to be calmer other than at some point my brain becomes unable to maintain this level of intensity.  My sister Erin made a beautiful response to my last entry.  Discussing the definition of control being the power to direct or determine.  This made me think (dangerous ground, i know).  what i realized is that i have a piece of the puzzle that you reader may not have or  have only in some sort of partial disclosure. The full disclosure is ocd.  Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

It has in many ways become watered down. a phrase just thrown out. a descriptive for "type a" or uptight personality.  Sometimes I guess it is true, but not always.  It is,  however,  a very real disorder, not a joke. Riddled with very specific traits/symptoms. I am one of the few people I know of who may feel confident enough in a semi public forum to admit that I have been diagnosed with this disorder. It is an anxiety disorder.  If you don't have an anxiety disorder, think about sometime when you were really really excited, like a kid on christmas eve waiting for santa.  well, that is anxiety. for good reasons, but anxiety none the less.  Now take that feeling and if it were a 250 degrees on an oven, then turn it up to 550.  then have this feeling live with you day in and day out.  that is an anxiety disorder.  sometimes it manifests in people in the web known as obsessive thought and compulsive behaviors, hence ocd. ok. I am not a doctor, but i do live with this. i live with it and read about it.  this however does not make me a professional expert on this subject.  this disorder can manifest in 5 different people in 5 different ways.  i only claim to know about my own experience.  In the end, this disorder has  roughly 5 base components to it. I am lucky enough to say that i only suffer from about 3 of these components in varying degrees.  I am also extremely lucky that I am not diagnosed with depression in conjunction with obsessive compulsive disorder. I suffer primarily from perfectionism and secondarily, religiosity which drive the following described intrusive thoughts.

I have first and foremost intrusive thoughts (obsession).  This means that I have thoughts I (until recently) CANNOT  SEEM to STOP. I am however, no matter how much I struggle, working with help to change the language of that.  I am working on being able, simply to say, that they are intrusive, but they  will stop. I am not necessarily comfortable discussing those thoughts, but know that they are not about boiling freaking bunnies in some ex lover's crockpot.  they are personal and almost never have anything to do with anybody except for myself (and quite far from egocentric or narcissistic). i will just leave it at that.

It is these thoughts that in turn lead to a variety of compulsive behaviors.  Like excessive apologizing, in hopes that it will end reliving some episode that i just keep going back to over and over and over again.  Like cleaning my house to a degree that is ridiculous. Read: toothpicks and toothbrushes are my tools of this trade. Scratching myself till i bleed.  Or becoming overly superstitious.  As a kid i really was sure that if i stepped on a crack my mother would be hurt.  I started when I was about 5 or 6 talking to the universe...actually i started learning about Greek gods and i spoke to them. I have read an excess over the years on many religions in hopes of finding some magic to quell these thoughts. Still looking.

So about two years ago, i stopped taking the medications that made these thoughts go away.  They made me happier, but the price became to steep, and in the end, started,  in my mind,  to work against me.  I have not looked back. Now we talk about control. I live these days with an obnoxious amount of control. there are days when it just becomes ridiculous.  I wouldn't trade the experience i am living. the amount of strength i have learned that i have is tremendous. that doesn't mean that i don't question it. or at times want to descend into what feels awful and warm all at the same time.  so  to keep myself from descending i write and listen to music (usually at the same time). i vomit all over the page to somehow keep it from repeating in the head.  it is a bit of my own personal pensive. if you don't know what that is, read harry potter.

So i do regularly question control. how much to have? when to loosen the reigns? when does the control become the obsessive thought? the power to direct. that is the problem. i have the power to direct myself. no one else. in my mind control, power, hope are all still tied together. it may take me years to figure out how to unravel that tangled bunch of wool.  or something to think about as i swim lap after lap after lap.

listened to rolling stones' beggars banquet on repeat on ipod while writing this.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Control

Control. Control is good. Control SUCKS.
I cannot stop my head from spinning.
Breathe. Breathe.
Not gonna happen. Not tonight, not for a while.
It is what it is.

Control. Always back to control.
What is it? What purpose does it serve?
Fuck if i know.
No. I know. I know all to well.
I want it
and
abandon it
all at the same time.

No control means the loss of everything of value.
What is the price to keep control?
The price is peace of mind.
Either way I am screwed.
If I give in,  more than likely  I will lose all of it.
If I don't I risk never having my intentions being known, probably lose all of it.

proof:
control=fear?

I seem to find myself paying a price in sleep, head spinning.
Then i vomit all over the page trying to sort my thoughts.
There is a reason why prescription drugs are so popular.
Life is painful.
Life is lonely
Life is disappointing.
Only to intoxicate you with hope and possibilities
just in the moment when you feel the most control.

the kind of control where you can be alone.
you make peace with the melancholy that comes with that control.
it is hope that courts spontaneity
it is hope that creates possibility
it is hope that creates lack of control

patience is really only control.
Days like this, I want to abandon all control.
Dive into the pool of hope.
Swim in it. Sleep in it.
Live in it.

SET ME FREE!

http://youtu.be/W3KfsnkZLjA

Saturday, March 3, 2012

letter writing music

http://youtu.be/d1tQFX_9ct0

i love this song. i always come back to it.
came on in rotation of my ipod while writing a letter to melanie. 
music is huge in my world. 
it lives in my head constantly. i need it to keep me sane.
reminding me of beauty that i know and beauty yet to be heard.
if you don't like radiohead. skip. if you do...have fun. tried to pick the least offensive deal off of youtube. 

i must get back to a long story i am telling melanie. 

Friday, March 2, 2012

message of love

it is late.
i cannot sleep.
i have to get rid of what is in my head.
pretty sure based on my stats these days that i am the only person reading this. so balls out on my writing this evening. fucking total brain dump. just to try to move to sleep.
i really want the anxiety and over stimulation to go play quietly in the corner for a while.
brain explosion is in progress. forgive the following mess while we remodel.


there are only so many times you can check facebook to see what other insomniacs and 3rd shifters are up to:
trolling looking at who has checked in a what bar.  
trying to remember how to breathe deep and evenly.
songs posted. 
then the inevitable drunk posts that start at about this time.
then i don't sleep and i get up with the alarm and back to facebook to see the posts of all the hungover people dreading work, wanting coffee.  yah. i probably knew you were hungover when i served you that morning.


trying to reach into my brain to grab it, bring it back to sanity. bring it back to thinking clearly. not over analyzing every move and then playing fucking mental chess with it, till finally i come to check mate.
the ultimate check mate. check mate check mate check mate check mate. check mate. mate check ,etam kcehc, eckhctame, tame check, lame check, lame chick....lame sauce, enough sauce for a fruitcake.


haha joke on me.  stone's just came on.


So help me, please doctor, I'm damaged 
You can put back my heart in it's hole 
Oh mama, I'm cryin' 
Tears of relief 
And my pulse is now under control



still awake. eyelid not dipping. have incredible urge to go running. running like when you were a kid. running and racing. racing another kid to the end of the block. not caring that it hurts when you breathe. or even better a night swim. what i would give to swim the laps i love to swim. swimming with my head dipping in and out of the water. cool, clearing. counting. counting how many time i touch one wall then the other. how many kicks it takes me to get from one side of the pool to the other. counting my breathing. counting my head rotations. counting. forcing my brain into another state. I can almost, if i am still enough, feel swimming in the ocean. sinking under the crashing wave. the bitter cold that leaves so quickly yet making me feel as if i can conquer anything. i can endure the cold water and turn it to warm. i am a god. so warm i don't want to leave it. the salty water. spitting it out. the sand. how it feels on your feet when the water retreats back to its domain taking a little with it. leaning into the coming wave. swimming out deeper and deeper. enough to trigger some fear. some thought, have i gone to far? perhaps i have gone farther out than what i can get back? then i body surf the waves back in. slowly, dipping under a wave every once in a while. then fighting to stay back out in the water, because it is now warmer than the ambient air. 

i could hardly walk and i had the shakes
had to eat some fruit or i was gonna to faint.
-the guilt by the rakes.

this is a true story.

the swing i named charlie. i miss that swing. it was the best. it lived on the opposite side of the tree where the hammock lived. all the dreams i had in that swing and hammock. they were so real. i knew in that hammock how i would get to london. i can still smell getting off the plane for the first time at heathrow airport. i had the same excitement and anxiety i have now, but no pending trip to europe. strange. i came from california, but ate my first mango in london. i think i want to always remember that. it is still the sweetest fruit i have ever had. seeing the rosetta stone for the first time. the first time i ever went to the paris opera house and seeing the chagall painted ceiling, the smell of the catacombs in paris. how absolutely cool the air was for such a warm day in paris. eating chocolate in switzerland. sadness. the necklace i bought there that trip was stolen. 

i can not get away from the dreaming the fantasies the planning the worrying. it won't let me sleep. i  want to stop. just for a little bit. let my eyes and brain stop. let my subconscious take over for a while. but i don't want my dreams hijacked. i am not saying what i am dreaming of currently. i dare not. not now not ever to anybody. i will know to my grave and doesn't need to be written here. it is always the same in some regards. just different players in my theatre of the brain. at least i don't dream of violence. simply love. dream of love. dream of love again and again and again and again and again and again. from every angle. good and bad. how it is possible for me to be hurt so badly yet i still try? Some of us are looking at the stars...

Now the reason we're here
As man and woman
Is to love each other
Take care of each other
When love walks in the room
Everybody stand up
Oh it's good, good, good
Like brigitte bardot
Now look at the people
In the streets, in the bars
We are all of us in the gutter
But some of us are looking at the stars
Look round the room
Life is unkind
We fall but we keep gettin' up
Over and over and over and over and over and over
Me and you, every night, every day
We'll be together always this way
Your eyes are blue like the heavens above
Talk to me darlin' with a message of love
Now the reason we're here
Every man, every woman
Is to help each other
Stand by each other
When love walks in the room
Everybody stand up
Oh it's good, good good
Say I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
Talk to me darlin'
-Pretenders

yah...this came onto the ipod too. i am royally FUCKED.


i must sound insane. maybe just inane. i think i am a little. but not enough to cause anybody any fuss. only myself.  i am tired. sleep has just been awful of late. so over stimulated and not enough down time.  i think this is part of me putting time in on the front end.

end brain dump. error. error. do you want to quit? retry. retry. shutdown...and now radiohead's subterranean homesick alien just came on. great. do you want to send and error report? why yes. yes. i would thank you.

love.
it is a good ipod mix, i must admit.