I know that youre not supposed to do things like this, in bodies like mine, in places like here. Youre not ever supposed to say what youre actually thinking in these things, its an edit, a filter, an amendment to the reality of yourself. But suddenly feel as if im coming to my own reality so Im just going to spill and cross my fingers that it isnt dramatic, or something along those lines.
Its strange being home, i mean it. After everything that has happened and ever will happen, here I am again.
She's a real nowhere man...
She's a real nowhere man...
I hate the feeling of being confronted with my age, and my parents age. Its all just a bit melancholy and surreal. I feel sad for growing old, I feel sad for enjoying it. Im not sure what that says about me.
In most ways, i consider myself a very lucky person. In others I am weak, but I suppose we cant be strong all the time. We are meant to lose thing things we love in life, and I have just made peace with that i guess. But you cant erase entirely the feeling of resistance.
I know it in the way that I look at my father at a baggage claim and it makes my stomach sit unwell to see him unwell. I know it in the moments taht i want to speak with someone, hold someone, inexplicably and without reason, suddenly and desperately. I know it in the dread that causes me think that maybe it was a mistake coming here. The thing is,i sort of just bloom where I'm planted but by chosing anything you create conflict somewhere else, And for this reason I made up my mind a long time ago that I could should and would not act for others. It has recently come to my attention that maybe this has forced me slowly into this commitment - evading cycle that has left me lonely in some moments. But maybe that is the price.
Now here I am, and the fear of what could and might be is giving me the urge to run again. But I wont for a while. I promise. It isnt the weather, it isnt the rain. Its the feeling that if i stay here it will all just stop. Everything will stop. I will stop.
I cant stop. I need motion to breathe. And thats just the way it is. It costs me loneliness sometimes, but i think i would have that either way. Now i want to seep into something or someone. Then again i love the weakness, it makes me create and it allows me to feel much deeper.
Something is changing in me i think, i mean, something is always changing but really, now. The times the are a changin. I feel different, not better or worse, just different, most notably...
I have an insane amount of thanks for everything and everyone and everywhere that I have it. I think I feel more gratitude for every second of life than youre average gal, and i think it doesnt show. But im so bursting with gratitude i could just scream! AHHHHHH! there.
Ive got problems too, but i couldnt be happier to have them in this space i call life, so I'm not afraid of them anymore. Ah, thats what it is, im not afraid of trouble trouble trouble much anymore, i just feel so powerful, I have a serious grip on life right now despite my setbacks. Its hard to explain, but that is what's different i think. I have given myself the permission to do whatever i want. ha!
Out of habit, I settled into the space taht was once my home but now just felt like mine and nothing else. All i could think to do was organize. So i did, and i listed and logged and found Paul Simon. Wedged there, lonely but snug leaned up against cat power. I didnt feel quite like cat, she had too much of a blue tint and very little resolve. Paul was exactly the warmth i needed and wanted. That and a lot of mo town. There is a reason that music is its own art form. There is a reason that instruments themselves have a presence in a room, like a person, to put it wisely "like it's another voice in the room" There is a reason why it is incredibly hard for me to describe the way it made me feel to put that needle to vinyl, even now, its too hard. It wont materialize, because there is no way. Because music begins somewhere deep in your person and ends there too. I mean really, deep down , in there, it moves through all the folds within you that see so very little attention and coddling or sunlight. Like a q tips grinding, gritty, satisfying sweep through the outer ear. Yes Yes Yes. Musica. Musique. Ying yue. You are the most sacred and certainly the most holy of things. My body's twine and bundles are simply quenched by your constant presence. Getchya loose ladies moving on a friday night and do what you need to do in the stereos of rush hour commuters...but please please please... make it back to my place by seven wont ya? dont foreget me, lets stay out tonight, lets not sleep, late night eggs, can i come up?
Im sorry for all the messages i left on your machine, Its only 'cuz i want you.
bad.
baby, baby, baby.
- J
In most ways, i consider myself a very lucky person. In others I am weak, but I suppose we cant be strong all the time. We are meant to lose thing things we love in life, and I have just made peace with that i guess. But you cant erase entirely the feeling of resistance.
I know it in the way that I look at my father at a baggage claim and it makes my stomach sit unwell to see him unwell. I know it in the moments taht i want to speak with someone, hold someone, inexplicably and without reason, suddenly and desperately. I know it in the dread that causes me think that maybe it was a mistake coming here. The thing is,i sort of just bloom where I'm planted but by chosing anything you create conflict somewhere else, And for this reason I made up my mind a long time ago that I could should and would not act for others. It has recently come to my attention that maybe this has forced me slowly into this commitment - evading cycle that has left me lonely in some moments. But maybe that is the price.
Now here I am, and the fear of what could and might be is giving me the urge to run again. But I wont for a while. I promise. It isnt the weather, it isnt the rain. Its the feeling that if i stay here it will all just stop. Everything will stop. I will stop.
I cant stop. I need motion to breathe. And thats just the way it is. It costs me loneliness sometimes, but i think i would have that either way. Now i want to seep into something or someone. Then again i love the weakness, it makes me create and it allows me to feel much deeper.
Something is changing in me i think, i mean, something is always changing but really, now. The times the are a changin. I feel different, not better or worse, just different, most notably...
I have an insane amount of thanks for everything and everyone and everywhere that I have it. I think I feel more gratitude for every second of life than youre average gal, and i think it doesnt show. But im so bursting with gratitude i could just scream! AHHHHHH! there.
Ive got problems too, but i couldnt be happier to have them in this space i call life, so I'm not afraid of them anymore. Ah, thats what it is, im not afraid of trouble trouble trouble much anymore, i just feel so powerful, I have a serious grip on life right now despite my setbacks. Its hard to explain, but that is what's different i think. I have given myself the permission to do whatever i want. ha!
Out of habit, I settled into the space taht was once my home but now just felt like mine and nothing else. All i could think to do was organize. So i did, and i listed and logged and found Paul Simon. Wedged there, lonely but snug leaned up against cat power. I didnt feel quite like cat, she had too much of a blue tint and very little resolve. Paul was exactly the warmth i needed and wanted. That and a lot of mo town. There is a reason that music is its own art form. There is a reason that instruments themselves have a presence in a room, like a person, to put it wisely "like it's another voice in the room" There is a reason why it is incredibly hard for me to describe the way it made me feel to put that needle to vinyl, even now, its too hard. It wont materialize, because there is no way. Because music begins somewhere deep in your person and ends there too. I mean really, deep down , in there, it moves through all the folds within you that see so very little attention and coddling or sunlight. Like a q tips grinding, gritty, satisfying sweep through the outer ear. Yes Yes Yes. Musica. Musique. Ying yue. You are the most sacred and certainly the most holy of things. My body's twine and bundles are simply quenched by your constant presence. Getchya loose ladies moving on a friday night and do what you need to do in the stereos of rush hour commuters...but please please please... make it back to my place by seven wont ya? dont foreget me, lets stay out tonight, lets not sleep, late night eggs, can i come up?
Im sorry for all the messages i left on your machine, Its only 'cuz i want you.
bad.
baby, baby, baby.
- J
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