Whatever

Damnit I get it, I'm fucking not right up there.
A little off.
I see it clearly but ride the waves unable to even doggy paddle, I'm in it but paralyzed.
I just... don't feel very good right now.

I feel like my chest is at capacity. There's
pressure, so much pressure. Hours and hours spent cross legged on a couch in a dark apartment. I'm all over the place internally, my emotions are fucking everywhere. Everywhere. I could probably scream pretty loud right now. I could punch something. There's no vent, there's no release. I feel sick and ridiculously impossible. This moment I'm in, I just can't understand it, even though it's forever familiar. I know I'm being an idiot. I know I'm far too needy. So I'm trying to step back and gauge. I have to figure out how to calibrate this immediately. Because no one likes this person, how can anyone like this person. Who wants nothing more than to curl into a ball and cry for a few hours. I feel like I'm melting.  Oh my goodness, it's ok. It's ok.

I hope I wake up from this.

My family wants me to go see them. But I simply don't want to... seeing a few of them at Christmas was enough. My memories are from a child's perspective, glossed and extravagant. But the ones who I really connect with are out of country or dead and the rest are loud and confusing. Country music and chisme. I've never liked sleeping anywhere that wasn't a place I loved. Even staying here is very hard, but the idea of having to stay there, at a cousin's house makes me shake. I know, it's ridiculous.

I can't go to her house, probably won't see her until actual labor, and he barely talks to me and doesn't seem to want to. I try to start conversations, try to see if I can't get a laugh or something but it doesn't work. He's bitter and takes cheap shots. Sigh.

It's new years and I'm miles away from the one I love but that's probably ok because I smother everything, and he seems fine.
I'm acting like a stupid girl, grabbing my phone in the morning hoping for love notes and finding nothing. Romantics are the most naive type of people. But I'm not ready to give that part of myself up yet. I like being whimsical, I give what would make me happy. But sometimes it's met with a light chill and in this state it hurts so bad.

I'm fine. I know this. I'm just overwhelmed with loneliness and I've been hungry too often the past week. My brain is just being an asshole. I'm fine.

I just need to vent. I need to learn to open that release at a safe distance from others. The crazy will whoosh out, and leave me alone as it sinks. Right? Leave me alone, you stupid cloud, you crazy internal animal. Just go away.

I'm out of ideas. Happy New year.

luna

tonight we went out to a little lounge.
i wasn't expecting much, to be honest, i hardly wanted to go at all.
i hardly want to do anything lately it feels like.

but luna was small and full of color, each wall it's own. the main area, to the right, was draped in thick velvet curtains than cascaded down to a small stage. we were the first to arrive and we settled into a booth. the ceiling was low and full of dark beams, prints plastered the walls. a green glass bar curved out from the left, and shimmered in the dim lighting. i don't know what i was expecting. i was lost in thought and longing.
talking about movies and music, we watched the band set up.

and the music started.

they were an odd bunch, there on the stage. a tall lanky man with dreadlocks on the drums. a shorter, stockier guy with a chin beard and plugs on the electric guitar. another man, this one so casual in a baseball windbreaker and thick rimmed black glasses on piano. and this woman with a beautiful smile, wild hair, and an acoustic guitar stood at the mic.

they just started playing. she was wailing, in this special deep way. in a language i didn't recognize. eddie leans over and tells me she knows four languages, she's self taught, she works at a university. he says, the guy on the drums is from the virgin islands. these people i don't know, they are waking something up inside of me.

there is a little dance floor, dappled with lights from above in a moving colorful rain. a girl walks out to the floor and dances alone, she has a short hair cut, a page boy hat. tee shirt and baggy jeans, she moves in a masculine way, her hips back and her arms bent at her waist. the lead singer smiles openly and seems to sing just to her a moment as out on the floor the lone girl turns and steps, turns and steps. i wish i was that brave, that passionate sometimes.

the bar has filled to capacity. couples start to stand and move together, clutching hands and smiling.

there are these two, though. these two i cannot tear my eyes away from. for the life of me, i'm fascinated.

he stood up from the table and he's so tall. smiling down at her he holds out his hand, bowed just a touch. she flips her hair and stands to follow him. she's so much shorter but it hardly matters. a vision, in a tight maroon top and even tighter jeans to his much more casual messy hair and mauve v neck. when they reach the floor he turns to her and they embrace in a swan like gesture, her arms opening arched and up, head tilted, as his reach down to her waist.

meanwhile the band plays a magical cuban song, not slow, but even and sensual. maya, the lead singer is named maya, she sings in deep long tones.

the two on the floor seem to fold into one another, her head on his chest they move their hips in sync and each let an arm drop to the side to curl fingers together, as their other hands meet in the air. every now and again he turns her, as if to present her to the world, her sheets of brown straight hair sweeping out before settling in again around her shoulders. as he moves to  her, he drapes his whole arm around her neck and pulls her close before letting his arm go to her back, to her waist, to her face again. they twirl and shift, they steal kisses and mouth the words of the song. his hands linger in her hair and she just beams up into his gaze.

completely fluid, jesus, watching these two is changing my life.

i'm smiling and the music is everywhere in my head. bouncing around in there, banging on boarded doors, wiping dust from windows and peering in to see if anyone is awake.

the couple returns to their seat.

the band plays on. at one point the drummer points to a man in the crowd. an older gentleman, with a blue jacket, veterans cap, and silver hair. the man comes on stage to sit beside him, where the drummer has placed a bongo and a mic. the song changes from this linear thing to this new animal, studded with the new additions of pops and booms. these two wake everyone up. in tandem, they create a beat that feels like it's making my heart beat faster, stronger. this old man, he's got his head down and his eyes closed. they end the song in a furious rhythm, leaning in to each other, until finally throwing their hands up in surrender, as the crowd crows and claps. the two embrace and exchange a few words. the old man returns to his seat.

it was all so special. they play "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone". it's the second time i've heard it today... how odd.

i wish roger was here, he would have enjoyed the shit out of tonight. and i would like to take some dance classes.

i'm exhausted.

i hope i dream about music.

the truths

the truth is far less fun and interesting than what is imagined.

i hope it wasn't all imagined.

i have this idea in my head... well i have several ideas in my head. images and perceptions of the different stages and people in and out of this dysfunctional timeline. but i see now that i am truly delusional. how could i be so blind in the moment? what on this earth could keep me from realizing in the moment, that this fucking sucks.

i remember now why i fled. back then, emotions on fire in a white hot mess all around me. i've never understood this place. it all seemed so romantic from far away... but a foul smell lingers in the fibers of my clothes and mingles with an unpleasant metal taste. oh my god. it really is crystal clear.

see, when your life falls apart. not like a hiccup. not like a stumble. but when your life falls apart. when your in a white hospital room, probably on the third floor... i think... i tried to count in the elevator... when you're in this room you are all of a sudden fully awake. you follow the lines of the curtains with your eyes. blue. cornflower blue. textured nicely. you breathe in deep and everything smells clean. there is a deep disappointment within your heart. that you couldn't do it. that instead, last night in a dim bathroom, you called a 1-800 number that swore it could help. when you are there... you never expect, or even want to to gather pieces, to put it back together. but somehow, by some great feat. here i am. and i know why. i got the fuck out.

the roots i have here are toxic, black and sick. i don't understand my family and friends, and to be honest i don't care to try to. recently, it's been magnified. i just don't care. or i am heavily bewildered. how do i fit into this? why am i so uncomfortable? people i thought i knew are frustrating and simple. there is no satisfaction in conversation, i am left annoyed and empty. it's like they were only keeping spaces warm for what i would consider real memories. real things. it's like most of these people i cling to were fading images in the sun. 

see, my brain embraces only the strongest things. meaningful. bright. i chatter with some of my cousins earlier and while they, as strange loud disconnected people, fade in and out immediately, the stories we touch on burn bright and fiercely in my head. how has my brain transformed memories into near fiction? fantasy? my enjoyment in my family died with my brother i guess. the separation began then, alienation. and now all i am made of, my history, is blurry around the edges, it's just a bunch of stories. i don't know how, but it doesn't bother me. i don't think i could care any less. jesus. it feels fine. i used to fall apart at realizations like this but now, it's damn near comforting, 

i'm glad i left. at first i wasn't. i was homesick and sad for a place i had created in false memories and stupid beliefs, i was so naive. but goddamnit, i can't believe i waited so long, it brought things to life, into light, and it blew all the smog and glass shards out of the cavernous depths of my head. 

it's too much to go into, the time away, but the brightest light flickers in and out of my mind's eye almost hourly. and that's being with roger out on the boat, anchored in a green river. gently rocking constantly i can feel the wet warm air as i sit in the cockpit. 

Galina is wide and beautiful, i have fallen in love with her almost as deeply as i have with him. this curious man with a golden smile, tinged with a line of sadness. there are many seconds aboard the boat that i stopped and thought... i cannot believe this is my life. i cannot believe this is real. watching purple sunsets and fretting over the outboard, catching glimpses of dolphins and watching other boats pour from the canal to Rosen. even right now, that feels closer to the start of my life than my own birth, i connect with that time more than time with my own blood. 

what does that mean?

i miss roger. texas has nothing for me now. i was ridiculously mistaken. i just want to be home, in our bed. i want to be where he is and walk in line with him towards a goal that is fruitful and strengthening, 

it sounds strange. but i just want my real life. and i'm not sure if i'll ever come back to this, my old sad city, again, 

the changes, it's all changing

so you know i really thought that coming home for a while would be pretty cool. but me, well, i'm something of a spectacular idiot. or maybe i'm being dramatic. but probably not.
the east side is beautiful right now, it being christmas time and all. the little houses are strung with lights and gawdy decorations. it's mild with a beautiful breeze... the trees are shedding.
but i'm itchy. confused. i came to expecting too much.
something has to be wrong with the way i perceive things. the meanings and feelings, i'm not processing them correctly. what's wrong with me?
i don't know these people anymore, the ones i thought were the most important. the ones i was so sure i couldn't live without.
my favorite, the woman i've known forever. we used to plan our whole lives together. we sat on the bus to middle school, where we ran with two separate groups, and try to get in as much nonsense as we could before we arrived. she would lay her legs across me and pout into a compact, laying on lip gloss and contemplating her skin. in high i would steal away every weekend to her house and lounge on her bed while she danced in front of her vanity in various vignettes: laden with black blue hair dye, singing to coldplay and chattering about debate team, talking about all the things we were going to do with ourselves after we escaped the hell that was adolescence. at that time i was spiraling, lost in a grey fog of self harm and depression. one day, after i had had a particularly bad night, she strode into my english class mid period and took me in her arms and told me she loved me and i should love me too. it was surreal, like a movie. she was magic in front of me, aggressive and loyal, a pillar of her family that burned and crumbled around her. she was everything i needed in a friend. everything i could only hope to be in a woman. we even had an epic food fight bloom around us one day freshman year it was slow motion craziness... and when i was expelled and sent away we made it through three years of high school at separate schools. and so much incredibly awful stuff in the years that followed. she's my everything. but now she sits across from me and talks and i don't know her voice, i don't see her eyes. i haven't really been around her in a year. it's been so long. and here she is, 9 months pregnant, we're supposed to be happy, i'm supposed to be making her laugh, she's supposed to be babbling about the little man inside her and instead it's a hollow copper sound in my head. she's resigned and tired. i can't even go to her house. i don't give a fuck how selfish i sound, i just want to be near my best friend before the baby comes and i really lose her forever. i asked her if she loves the man who lives with her and her mouth curled and she shrugged. it broke my heart. if this is goodbye i at least want to be near her. i want tell her it's going to be ok. but her voice has an edge and i just have to smile and nod. it's my problem. and i'm being unreasonable. right? damnit.
i don't know.
it's also that i can't seem to leave the house.
nerves get me. i had breakfast alone today.... it was so very strange. i want to go out and see my city. but i found i got a few blocks out the door and just stood there, counting my quarters... frozen and a little shaky. am i really so dependent on others? i can't be this fragile. the yards looks so green and the wind was perfect.... but i just gave up. i miss the barns and the birds. i don't feel the same about my old neighborhood, even though i always seem to think i want to come back here. how does this make sense.
i'm lonely i guess. the only person i want next to me is states away. i'm just so confused. i obviously can't function.

i wish i was better at adulting. sigh.

i wonder if anyone else questions everything

there are flies everywhere in this house. i can hear them.
man, it gets a little dramatic in here doesn't it?
like glittery red curtains open and the sad show of my black lined mentality begins. fanfare and candy wrappers sing out while i stand center stage to shout about what hurts and how. sometimes i really annoy myself.
there is a fly in the lamp closest to me, sizzling and buzzing against the shade and the bulb. probably in a strange ecstatic confusion, overcome by light and the weird fly urges that control it. i know this general feeling, dude. but still, please die.
it's just. what the fuck. why the fuck. i sludge through afternoons wondering what will become of me. with a sometimes distant partner who seems confused by my attention. well i don't know. it's hard to read people. it's gotten harder i think. i am watching my youth disappear from under me. the light flowing under a door and into the world.... without me. i am coming to the point where i have to decide what is going to happen here. this is life right? this is 30 now. this is a third of the way through and you still don't mean very much to the people you assume are important. are you important. god, am i important. i feel like a take it or leave it kinda girl, a thanks for hanging out kind of chick, a hey i mean while you're here kind of broad on the edge of already being forgotten. and i feel like a fucking idiot for feeling so deeply about them.
about these liars, the people really actually probably doing nothing wrong. i mean, we can only really look out for ourselves right? isn't that the key to my own philosophy? so how can i hold this against anyone? what gives me the right to be angry or sad. disappointed? empty. what on earth was i expecting?
that was probably my problem all along. i should have really heard him when he told me not to expect, how can these expectations be anything, just don't ok?
i should really work on that grounding shit.
right?
oh god fuck that. you know the beautiful thing about this blog is i can go back and really see my feelings. and yea most of the time i just want to give myself a hug and wipe tears and blood away, but i can also see that streak of the right kind of crazy there. in those wild words i can feel my heartbeat. i remember days and nights of emotional disasters but i can remember waking up after with a bemused thought of damn i'm actually still alive. i am proud of myself, downright amazed that even though i was picking myself apart i stayed alive and i stayed coherent and i skipped the needles and took the joints and for every person who broke me down those walls were always magically miraculously built up again. fresh. unscarred. unlike my physical skin my unseen skin is clear and soft and open. i gave each person a new smile even when so many had decided before that i wasn't worth the time. that this broken girl was a lost cause or desperate enough to follow like a shitty sick puppy. how many people just said fuck this and left, spent nights silently uncaring before walking out the room and to a bed that had become a cell. but i'm unchanged.
i am proud of this.
i am happy for it.
goddamn it this is amazing.
i don't really think i can stress over the little things. i'm a grownup now. right. grown. but i also need to be my own thing. i need to be separate. i'm sure my heart is strong but i can't be too careful.
i just mean that i'm not really dreading destruction anymore.
my old friend, i'm always there for you, the way you have been for me.
let's start act 2.

Fuck it

There are days when I feel... pretty great.
Then, I wake up.
I realize that I've let the goofy, naive, stupid part of me win and I'm wide open, soft parts showing, belly up and just asking for it. Drop the axe, baby, give it to me good. Tear at the pieces you can see, when the pain hits, I'll just close my eyes. Head back, mind exploding in fireworks of confusion and synapses, I'll try to bury myself. I'll try to ignore it. I'll tell myself: I'm ok. I'll tell myself: next time it'll be different. Letting this happen, I'll be so sure I've earned something like love. But in reality, the pieces never grow back, and these scars only layer into a rough scary armour. I wonder when it will happen. When I won't feel anything anymore.

i'm fucking trying

i doubt that anyone who has felt the massive crushing weight of an out of nowhere sadness, that rusty dragging needle over the softest parts of an already struggling heart, i doubt that they can stand without shaking. even on the warmest day. the sun stays out sometimes, sure. i see her up there. burning so hot- and i still sometimes just want to crawl into her arms and burn away to nothing.

but it can't stay like this. i think i can be stronger.
i have to be, really. because i am not losing this.
this constant shitty fight.
i won't lose him, i won't lose myself.
i have to be stronger.

where do i start?

the. same. old. shit.

I drag back here to vomit my sadness.
Leaving, usually, with the hope I'll never return.
But my shattered life won't allow it.
After all I've been through.
All I thought I deserved.
I still feel ... just like this.