Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Tugging on a Tendril

I was trying to think of something that I know about myself right now, and I couldn't come up with a fucking thing. Not one thing. Total blank. I did think of one thing though. I sure know how to fuck something up in nuclear fucking proportions when I put my feeble mind to it.

I'm not anything fucking special here. I was stupid and shy as a little girl and I lived in my head. My friends were animals. My friends were the heroes in books. I didn't need to have tea parties where I would pull out dainty saucers and a teapot, going around a cardboard box for a table... serving toys and invisible visitors... I was constantly at a tea party in my head. My imagination was wild and jumped with abandon from topic to topic and equally from emotion to emotion.

I couldn't stand up for myself without crying or getting red faced. I liked being who I was when it slowly started to come to me, but I hated being looked at, and I have to be the one controlling the depth of my encounters, but I never went too far down. Never found myself here in this position that I am in. Completely at someone's fucking mercy. Crushed with the weight of my emotions and physically ill with loss and confusion and sickness. Complete love sickness.


I never had alot of friends. I just knew alot of people. Maybe for the reason I mentioned at the beginning. They can't think of one thing about me that means fuck all.

What am I feeling?

It doesn't matter at this point. I am feeling every fucking piece of pain on the planet right now. Every piece of pain that this horrordome has ever fucking bred and breast-fed and created in it's never ending legacy to produce nothing but said fucking pain... is what I feel right now.

I have not for one second yet, really inspected what I feel about my daughter in all of this. I haven't been able to address it.
And I won't start addressing it tonight. Don't get me wrong. Her existence motivates me and blesses me, and so I have to be strong to face that pummeling. Something I don't see myself being right now. I am losing my fucking mind... So to focus on the shit that truly fucking matters... is actually really hard.

I feel like this disgusting sea monster come to the shore, and throwing itself into the sun to feel warmth only to be stoned and pelted by beautiful but violent people from every direction. Driven back into the murk, staring at the lights of night time fiestas, tears make tracers of all the life I am missing. All of you that I am missing. I can't take it. I will float back to shore when everyone is passed out from revelry and warm myself on the sand near a neglected fire, careful to sleep lightly so that I may protect myself in the murk to live another... sad fucking day.