three days off, a new shirt, and finding comfort in the next state

i have been falling up lately. let's talk about Iowa.
the last day of 2013 i woke up early. i felt weird, anxious. i packed a small bag.
see, something happens to people when the year ends. they make fantastic plans, they see the glint of change in their very near future like a promise, they say things will be different. everyone buzzes about the evening to come, tonight we drink tomorrow we will be ... better.
this year, i found my idea of a resolution had changed.
i petted the cat, i got in my car, and i drove.
it has never been like this.
i'm sorry to be so repetitive but
i just don't know how else to explain who i was when i decided to leave the house i have lived in for two years
leave all the things i knew and the roads i had memorized in that time to drive to a small town in Iowa and see him.
i don't know Iowa. i have hardly been out of the city i live in there on there in Nebraska, i barely leave my neighborhood. but i'm on the highway going 85, blaring Chvrches and having a cigarette and it's fucking freezing but fuck, i'm doing it. i'm doing this. such a long stretch, the hills roll with me. i'm surprised at how beautiful i find what i'm passing. i mean, i was breaking into smiles just from the scenery, the fucking serenity in it, the movement like the curves of a soft woman or the flow of water as lines create patterns in the land.
silos, barns, black cows dotting the browish grass.
i knew it was all dead but the creamy beige of the ground against the blue sky had me breathless. trees, naked and reaching. snow still hiding in shadows. passing wind turbines i think of driving to Corpus Christi back home but that thought is pushed out by the biting cold from my cracked window. surreal.
i get to the little town, boasting a wind mill and hardly much else, and when i'm in the driveway i think it struck me that i had actually done it.
who is this person? why am i driving away from what i thought was home to see him?
just what is happening here?
here, my mind clicks back to our first conversation, in the cold car, in that parking lot and i remember when he started talking and suddenly the words were tumbling from him like a waterfall.
he gave me so much that night when we had never even had a full conversation.
i was already breaking away then, from the current souring situation.
i was angry and distant as usual. i am such a stupid girl sometimes.
but the hardening thing in my chest asked me to try just one more time to reach out. and just so happens, that sunday night, here was this man in front of me.
and he said yes when i asked him.
our first conversation he
didn't ask too much
didn't tilt his head and say oh honey i'm so sorry
he didn't try to touch me
he sat there and talked. and i needed that.
i'm falling up. into these things that used to perplex me.
i used to be so frustrated that i couldn't just be alone. but now i realize that i like people too much to let them be.
i can be ok with this. i see now it was never the people, the timing, the total, it was always the control and lack thereof that let me down. the angry earthquake of giving too much too fast or expecting this to solve everything and why won't he just love me blah blah blah. expectations. just ridiculous.
i set myself up for failure, but luckily i held onto enough of the still soft parts of my heart to let this one in. maybe you made it just in time. ha! lucky you.
i put my hand out and he took it.
i'm pleasantly surprised often with this one.
the first time i reached for his hand he took mine with an ease i wasn't expecting. we walk up to the cold bar and as i lean into him to shield the wind he gently puts an arm around me, and it feels like something i know, it feels like its been there for years. i drunkenly talk about random things using my hands way too much but he just smiles and leans in, hand on my thigh, following my words. it is the first time i have ever had a man help me into my coat.
i'm in the driveway.
he comes out and lets me into his house, green carpet, little statues, dust, books. it smells so familiar, makes me remember my grandma in california. i won't give too much here, it feels private.
we continue on to Des Moines to a friend's house to welcome the new year. the place is beautiful, the host amazing. a fat old white cat roams around until he sees me, then he avoids the living room often. that's a gay man's cat for you. our host goes to dinner with his boyfriend and leaves us to our own devices for a few hours. bad move. hmm.
the night goes on and we snack, drink, talk, and i am just enjoying this so much. his friend is sweet, and when him and his guy get back they cuddle on the couch watching the countdown while we mingle in the dining area. eye contact, warmth, sierra nevada. i can't keep my hands to myself.
this person in front of me is special. i want him.
at midnight he kisses me and when he puts one arm firmly around me and one up to my face i am feeling the rum, feeling a little dizzy, i am simply elated. the night blurs. happy new year.
the next day lounging around his friends, i spend too much time napping and watching DIY while they put up drywall in the basement. it snowed, and as pretty as it is, i am a little nervous. we leave after dark, while we are driving he tells me the things he likes about me, why i am special, and he asks me if i am going to stay with him again.
of course.
and while his bed isn't as big as the others we tangle together in various levels of hushed need and sleep. he feels perfect in my arms.
i don't need new years resolutions when i can still achieve this feeling with another person.
i'm just ... feeling pretty good right now.

some points:
-i found a painting in the basement of his friends house said friend had done. i fell in love with it. he gave it to me. fucking awesome. 
-the cat let me touch him once.
-i didn't brush my teeth for two days! what the hell.
-we went to the car drunk for a cigarette after the ball dropped and i left my window down. then 2 inches of snow fell.
-his sister is one cool chick.
-that smile makes me float.
-i had a few rushed dreams last night, they were all in purples and maybe bronze? lots of running and throwing things.

passion in violent acts [in dreams]

i killed someone in my dream the other night, it was terrible and ferocious and i was shocked at how fast and intense the whole thing was.
something was happening in a store with a huge glass front. an argument, some accusation, i dont know...

i remember-

-everyone was wearing white and khaki at one point, as though we were in school, in uniform.
-shelves with little statues and jewelry.
-the person [male?] i was confronting was standing in front of me and i was so angry. we were circling each other and the people around us were yelling for us to stop. i yelled "he skinned that boy alive he has to pay!" then i lunged and stabbed.
-after people started to leave. they walked around the dead body. i laid down with another person and we put our legs up against the wall. he hands me a bubble wrap skirt and i pull it on. he says his assistant got it for me. mari.
-i look out the window, all the people leaving are covered in blood. i can feel the sticky warmth on me, but i cant see it.

in fact all of my dreams are becoming overtly sexual and violent. i dont know why, these phases happen in my sleep.

last night in fact there was a murder and sex. ???

points:

-i had moved into a dorm like apt complex that was tall and square spare on side, which slanted down steeply. it was futuristic in that the architecture was smooth and mono colored, with beautiful balconies and plants all over. small efficient rooms, and elevators. tvs in the hallway. it was very interesting.
-it felt like i was moving in with a family, but i could never really see them. most of the people living in the dorm were young and attractive.
-i wake up in the dream and go to my balcony, its dark and there are cops cars surrounding the lower floor. a man is behind me telling there has been a murder. i get the chills, seeing images of a strangled woman in my head. i go back inside.
-later im on the balcony taking pictures of it with a camera i have to hold up to my eye. its still very dark out. i'm taking a picture of a tree limb that leans into the balcony when the zoom begins to act up. as the camera flashes i see a mans face looking at me from over the limb. i freak out and run inside.
-now we're leaving me and a small group of people, we walk to a house a mile or so away and i look back and take in the image of the tall geometrical building i live in. we get to the little house and go upstairs. everything is cream carpet and buttery furniture. men and women talk to me. i go into the bathroom and put on a lacy very revealing dress and everyone is fucking outside of the bathroom i can hear them, so i sit on the toilet and play with some makeup ive found.
-later i walk out everyone is gone and a man walks up to me and tells me i look amazing and we walk home, crawl into bed and i fall into sleep in the dream and awaken in real life.

i miss my dreams. deeply. my stomach aches when i think about them. nothing could feel look like flow so smoothly be so colorful in real life.

sigh.

if only i could stay.

strangers, grasping, cigarettes, and a need to make changes

sometimes i disappear.

usually its due to indifference, resignation, i dont see a need to participate when the crap of the world is in the air, thick and choking. its better to stay in, stay away from outlets, computers, radio, voices. i dive into books, i touch and i write on paper, real paper. i become obsessed with pens, i throw energy into physical altercations like fighting or sex. everything needs to be proven suddenly. the internet and television is too easy, it gives you the feeling the story the colors. real life is harder you have to go out and get it. so i venture out. finally after weeks of being locked in, and once im out im out. the car gets filled up i get in it and i call every number in my contacts trying to find an accomplice. someone please come with me. its lonely now, after all that pushing i need you finally, are you there. im on my way. its so strange some of my friends have the weirdest looks on their faces, like who are you? this smiling warm stranger, she swears she knows me but i dont remember the color of her hair or the ways her eyes dont hold mine. but her voice is clear now and she wants to pay for everything. i come in small bursts, flaming, burning. i feel the mood swings coming and try to ignore them. sometimes it works. after a time i wear out. i stop calling. stop moving. now your pulling me and im pushing back, its all so familiar. a strange cycle like seasons eating my brain. i swear its like sedation. i want to do things. i want to get on and talk to you but i cant find it in me. i think im coming out right now. the winter weather and the ice and the dog and all the sketches filling up and overflowing in my head its time to actually get things started again. and all the things i want to do cant wait. i dont have alot of time remember eventually the proverbial leaves will turn and the locks will click black and ill be in full fetal mode. but for right now im shaking off the sheets and getting a little excited. ive been away.

i need a cigarette and some paint and i need to get going already.

hm.

lingerie and children in caves

i wish i had cigarettes.
kix will have to do.

finally its the day off weee. still im thinking about going to work. whatever. last night was alot of tru tv and thinking. it was actually pretty rough. i fell into the old thoughts and tried to make up for them with books and a few beers but instead i felt storms. so i went to sleep. and it worked. sort of.

dream. in no certain terms.

im on this sort of island. its not mossy or tropical. it seems to be in the middle of a swamp or something. the island itself is a land mass but more of a huge old old house almost growing out of the water. its like a castle with courtyards and bricks and winding staircases. built like a monastery. pretty neat architecture. im sitting with a group of girls on the outer wall looking at the water. we're waiting for orders or something like that, some of them are wearing masks, some are putting on makeup, all of them are pretty and small. i fidget. a man comes in and claps his hands come pick now! he shouts, follow me. we merge with some boys and end up in a room, which somehow looks like the living room i used to have in california. there are thick couches lining the walls and tables too all of these are covered with clothes, with jewelry, makeup, gloves, shoes, etc. we sit in a circle and the man tells us to pick. we start grabbing clothes. everything is beautiful, and shiny and way way too sexy but i find some really gorgeous tops i like. the girl next to me makes a comment about my boobs. i laugh and tell her to shut up its not my fault she was born with a boy body. i turn away and play with the necklaces and makeup. there are men in the room now, waiting for their turn to pick, some of their faces are painted white, and some where jester outfits and others top hats and vests. then it dawns some kind of fashion show, or maybe something else, but now im bored so i go looking for something else to do. im walking under arches and tunnels trying to find someone to talk to, people are rushing around in various stages of undress, prob for the show but i just want to find my friends. a man stops me and says you havent hung yet, you need to get up the stairs, they make you run all the way up then all the way down. press the button now get lost. i remember that word for word, he even had his hand on my chest. my hair is very long. so i start climbing some stairs nearby, they go almost straight up at the most ridiculous angle, crazy stairs! i get to the top and there is a tiny room at the top and a girl sits pushing hair chopsticks into her thighs. i nearly fall down the damn stairs this time. i walk on. i find this little library now, its tiny, and it looks and smells like the libraries from when we were in elementary school. its shaped almost like a circle. i walk and examine. this library is weird. animals scurry on the shelves. the children play with broken computers and pieces of wallpaper. the books are soaking wet for some reason and bloated and dead. there is a fish tank but the water is black. im a little freaked out, suddenly everything is sticky and disgusting i need out. im tripping over shattered plastic and discarded blocks and then i fall down a short bunch of stairs into the basement of the library. everything is blue i look for a sources of the light and find none. there are a few kids down here but i cant see their faces, they are dark for some reason, crouched over something that is protesting in sharp squeals and growling in response to whatever the child is doing to them. i scramble up the stairs and push my way out of the place. now i have fresh air on my face. im strolling almost when i hear a loud crash. i walk over the stones of the castle grounds and find the source of the noise. a wall has fallen, and in the chaos i here boys yelling. little boys. i run over and shake off dust and look down at the hole the huge bricks have made. there are two tunnels that go pretty deep and in each tunnel a small boy. they are scratching and trying to climb with no luck. for some reason i know that they are tv stars and that they witnessed their dad get blown to pieces by a hidden bomb. (swear) i watch them grab pieces of rock and tear them out of the walls. by this time im pretty sure these two got this so i leave. as i walk some of the girls run up to me and start putting necklaces around my neck and pushing earrings through my ears. making new holes and they laugh when their hands come back red. im too tired to feel it, or laugh back. they keep sliding jewelry onto me, pulling at my hair and sticking pins into it, chokers, anklets, headbands, its all so heavy i stop and lay down on the ground. im going to sleep. then i wake up.

and its 3 in the afternoon. yessss. hello grogginess. that you? its been a while.

its been weird right now there is a struggle i will tell you that. im fighting myself but i dont want it to come to what it could. i just wish i could take off my body and skip out for a while. just float and listen. or maybe live inside of a hug for a few days. but no one has time for that and im pretty sure my body is well attached to me.

at least i have a few people around that help when it gets rough. im lucky that way. i should remember that.

sleepy again. maybe ill spend friday in bed.

yep. will do.

urrrrrrg

a few questions.

on this strange rainy day.

part of me has been thinking hard on some of the goings on of my age group. us middle agers. us 20 somethingers. maybe its the weird mood im in today. that self loathing mode i love so much. dont get me wrong- on any other day it would be all the same if not for that single pixeled line of fascism present on the clouds of my mind this afternoon. and hey, i am in NO way a fascist but right now it feels like anything would be simpler than giving these filthy idiots [my peers as it were] total control of their own lives. anything that would stop the borderline retardation that is my generation. and im not saying complete fascist regime or anything im only saying stop the insanity people. or we'll shoot you. thats all. its things like thick lipstick and black gloves in the winter. its things like genre racism and total social protocal. its the lovely fucking things like trivial pursuit and douche-opoly. this is my platform people. what are we doing?
its like we have a dance. sure, we have a fun things we like to call existence. but its getting stranger. at least this is what i think just by observing the more recent group ive been exposed to.

people arent people anymore. their like posters on a middle school wall. covered in glitter and eager to please.

heres us keeping our backs to the walls, trying desperately to avoid all that is "mainstream". after all we have to be obscure to be anything. right?

heres us kissing and touching. its the new handshake. the new straightforward lie. its our new calling card.

heres us laughing and laughing and laughing until the buzz wears off or the drugs hit inflation.

heres us.

and heres my jaded opinion.
get your hands off me, i know im not making sense but for fucks sake doesnt anyone just talk anymore? its always a well timed joke or a silly anectdote. people are looking up their personalities online and selling the old ones to the younger crowd. love interests are spending hours making nice with the mirror only to go home smeared and crying and a little less loved or interested. urrrg. i wish i could structure my thoughts.

[its just. when did "awkward" become a sexual quality? a desired on at that?]
[when did people stop staring and asking questions?]
[when did the punk revolution make its said "comeback"?]

when did i stop finding this all amusing and start being a little scared?

you really shouldnt mind me. im a simple girl with a bitterly poetic view. as much as i question it- it wont mean that ill stop taking part. i love the pink lights and the dizzy headed conversations around the 40's and the goings on. its all just thoughts.

its all just semi interesting to talk about on a day full of picking myself apart.

who knows. im tired. and andrew says im going to blow up if i dont tell him where his mom and the spies are.

heh.

that is all.

end.