8.4.09

singing in public, mass horror, 2 days off, warm floaty feeling, and wondering where the prize is

cereal boxes get thrown across the room when stephanie digs and digs and comes up with sticky hands and a stupid nonsensical cardboard token. [give me plastic robots and tiny glass fish] anything. i wont swallow it. promise.

the last few days have been. nice.

people make me feel weird. i hate it. like falling.
i just cant seem to quit smoking.
im obsessed with other peoples relationships.
trying to work out knots and tangles.
trying not to cut off all my hair and move to kansas.
ill raise pigs.
anything.
today i got home and promptly fell into drawing on the strips of canvas on my living room floor. writing. cutting. i put on turn on the bright lights. i danced i sang. i sat in the middle of my kitchen and thought about food. trying to will it into existence. nothing. i guess i dont have powers. well certain ones. whatever. i went into the bathroom armed with yellow rubber gloves and ajax and scrubbed and sang more. yelled at the cats when they decided to knock over every jar of paint water in my house. i laid in bed and hated all four windows in my room. startd to miss the bed i wont have soon. tom gets home and im in a weird mood. he doesnt say much to me. i dont think were talking. he leaves and comes back with beer. i fly into a rage and leave. now im here. my eyes burn and i hate the internet. hate that i have all this to say but the words dont match.
yet im smiling.
memories of bars and stupid illogical sheets and shaking so hard in front of the small group while i butchered when you were young. drunk. watching the couple across from me touch and inside im kind of flying. driving at night. driving during the day. getting ready to work again. ugh. at least i got paid to get whiplash. dont ask. simple things are all i have. the more complex part of it all the part that maybe i want is still unreachable or impossible. im still a little breathless and time is ticking wait time is streaming. ouch whats wrong with the air? its stale and much too warm.
this is a bit much.
i cant blog with their voices behind me.

enough. i have to keep this warmth. i have to keep this.

drive home.

2 comments:

Gary ("Old Dude") said...

What a captivating post!!? about a zillion comments I might make flitted across my mind, ---but the one I wanted most to make, was thanks for becoming a follower on my blog----needless to say I am now a follower of yours, --I don't know what it says about me, but I like the way you think!!! (lol)

s.k.namanny said...

I know where the prize is.
PS: love the new profile photo.