Retroactive Abortion

Mess

Productive week, destructive week. Messes made and cleaned. Trip to WINCO, always welcome, and w/ a new and pleasant companion. Bought a TON of shit, and remembered how pleasant it is to not be out of essentials like cheese, flour, and toilet paper. Keep setting my face to hate my job, but it's been fine lately, so I get confused about an hour in. Can't complain about that-just have to adjust my face settings. AND, I broke a toe. Little, right. Stubbed it. I can feel the bones moving and clicking like Legos in there. And it fucking hurts.

Seven, if you're curious

Heroic Patterns

It's hard to say what I like best. The visceral, vivid sensation. That wave of premeditated schizophrenia. The soft edges of things and the way the world breathes at you. Reminding myself that I am capable of tremendously poor judgment. Not my usual dipshittery either. Genuine clear-eyed, true-believer poor judgement. I said Amen, and thought of Josh.

It's familiar, all at the same time. Like a family member you only think of when you see them, and then all the feelings come rushing back.

The egoism of it. Standing in the middle of a field, at noon, with the sun bright and hot and directly above my head. Wind and clouds and birds orbiting...like the world revolves around me. In my own defense, without that arrogance, I don't think I'd make it through.

But I do. Every time. And I'm pleased as fucking punch with myself. Every time.

There's more, there's always more.

Changing gears, and by way of apology, you should know I don't feel as though there's value in trying to make this relevant*. Sometimes these are wholeheartedly broadband-sometime's they're a cheap alternative to a conversation with a specific "you". I was able to say the same thing to two different people at once recently. In real life, I mean. Call this that, again.

Regardless, I feel like I've been mirroring the rest of you, and I have a terrible feeling this is not a good idea. I couldn't say for whom.

So this isn't important, per se, in as much as it's meant to convey anything relevant.** It's just my attempt at rendering down what I'm thinking about, as clear a sense of me as I can provide at the moment, in the state I'm in. And I'm hoping that in itself lends relevance to those of you who I imagine reading this. I won't sleep, wouldn't sleep. Sunrise.



*I would not discourage you from assuming that "this" may be broader than the scope of my blog.

**I hope to retire off the irony I manufacture trying to put caveats on my cryptic. You've been here before, you know what to expect.

Days

No calendar for how many I have left, but if all, or most, or even a few of them were like today...I could be happy.

Giving Up

And fuck this for a lark anyhow.

There are things in my head that I've spent years inspecting, analyzing, scrutinizing...then gutting like a fish. I recommend this technique, by the way. Finding and knowing the things about myself that hurt me, and smothering them with a pillow whenever we meet. I'm mixing my murderous metaphors.

They don't die, but their corpses, lich-like, are far more manageable than the living breathing horrors they once were. And I'm better, carrying their phylacteries around with me. They rise unbidden, but familiar and easily broken.

I know better, and that's what works.

There are lots of them, and I'm better, and happy as I am...except for this one thing, a barrier and a failure. And it breaks me fucking consistently and always the same way, and I'm fucking tired of it. So I know it. And I'm killing it like all the others. I've decided.

Once more, with feeling

I hate it when this communicates less than even my mood. Much less than my particulars, all of which I'd like to relate to you. In a witty, coherent, pithy way.

But I'm not up to much, tell you the truth. All my best bits are leached away in the sun and my sweat, and I won't have more for at least a minute. I'm even out of puns, which I didn't think was possible.

I had a grand, spectacular day with myself. An even better one with some of you. You know who you are.