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Friday, July 23, 2010

Throw me a bone - back!

Argh, my back is unhappy! Not good. Want to write feel a tad druggy.

My lame-ass back
has me laidback in the sack
comfort looks like food
So bring on the snax

Spinal, bone-ill,
I can't tell which
part it is
back is a bitch

my belly is jelly
abdominal's abominable
six pack my ass
my back's ass is grass

muscle kerfuffle
waffle snuffle uffagas
it even hurts
when I try to pass gas

Skoobie doobie poo
my spine is unglued
this poem sucks
I need help dude!

there goes the sun
can't feel my bum
and I say
it's alright....

Thank you

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Sine waves

Back to neutral ground again. Watching life from a safe distance. Was at the beach yesterday, enjoying the water, the life teeming around me, envious of the momentum. Small squeals, barks, water everywhere. Life for life's sake, thousands of sand dollars - why?
Ranges of parenting examples, some encouraging adventure, some entrenching fear. Older people frolicking in the water. Inspiring that.
Instead of rejoicing in the life spirit around, I feel it instead as failure as comparison and lacking. But it's not piercing as it can be. I guess reducing the negative also nullifies the highs. Gotta have a sine wave or nothing.
The sun feels good, the water assuages. Water is like that, the great mother - bolstering, suspending, reducing the weight of whatever we're carrying. My fears dissipate into the Pacific, their concentration reduced. Buoyed with soothing.

Then I come home.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Sister Wendy shaves her head - a poem

Hair to the front of her
Hair on her neck
Straight sides, curly back
Heifer...what the heck?

A life devoted to others
Saving them from bad choice
She answers the call from Cancer
"Take that" in her kindest voice

She'll give all her hair
She's done it once before
But this time she 'd better get
more sunscreen from the store

She looks good in hats
She looks good without
I wished she liked cats
But I digress...

All my sisters make me proud
My parents and brothers too
Sister Wendy shaved her head
To help others, so can you

You can help fight cancer too! Donate to cancer research through Wendy's site

Friday, July 2, 2010

Internal Forecast: Wallowing or Drowning

Self-fulfilling prophecies, I hate 'em. I've been feeling really flat, low this past week or so, much of what I talked about last time I think. I think I was hoping all this goodness would make me feel better about myself - guess not. I'm living in a fog of apathy with a slight chance of despair. I'm wondering what will it take - more faking till I finally believe? Is this what others do? Is it just that I am giving into the lowness, I'm not trying hard enough? Well, that's a yes because I don't even feel like trying. I think there are many many others who feel like me out there but they're just trying harder, are being braver. I am feeling very cowardly. There I've done it, made myself cry, so maybe I've hit the truth. I have this utter conviction that I am simply incapable, that I am broken beyond repair, that this is when you toss the model out. I am crying now so maybe I've just managed to get inside my own shell, breached my own defences. Did you know you can be your own double agent. I guess it's confusing wondering what side you're on. Edges blur, I still don't know why I cry, sadness, but will it ever stop? I have talked about almost everything I can think of, terrible things that have mostly happened to other people., I just happened to listen to them and try to offer compassion, I guess it was a trade off, they left feeling better (maybe just momentarily) but I took on the horror, the agony. It's emotional agony. I can betray berate myself for anything, even if nothing bad has actually happened. I think it's a way I try to feel powerful, it's so twisted, all I can say that feels like truth is that I just feel numb most of the time and some of the time, I feel very very sad and sometimes I feel happiness, so its possible, but it's just not that often and I really have no clue about where these happy times come from. They feel good, I want them, some people think people like just like being depressed, that I'm wallowing in it, I'm not wallowing I'm drowning. I think it's goo that I'm crying, at minimum it means I exist. I don't think people cry for no reason. But maybe my brain is just so completely miswired that there nothing to reason around it, there no pattern I can discern. i am able to talk, able to write this stream of whatever, but it mostly feels self-indulgent, which I judge as a negative behaviour - but maybe I need to , I need to get this poison out, I feel so toxic and I am making my body more toxic by not looking after my physical self, it seems part of me is bent on self-destruction, like little slices at a time, like it hurts at first then you get used to it and you stop noticing and all the while you're circling the drain.

I finally got my webpage up, I really like it so now I can apply for other submissions to other galleries, and I've got my resume up to snuff I think. Like I said, good stuff.

Wallowing implies will, drowning may not be a person's fault, maybe not so directly. I remember the things that pierced me. The things that feel like losses, the things I haven't found the way to process, integrate. I haven't found the will to move myself into a kinder place - I'm all about the martyring - I know there are many who have experienced, seen far worse than me and I feel ashamed to even to talking like this, like I have not earned the right. Yet I would say to another person that they have losses and that it is important to grieve them, that a person has a right to grieve. Grieving, crying removes those toxins from my system, cause right now I am feeling tired but less apathetic. So writing helps. It doesn't matter if anyone else reads it, these are my thoughts, they may not fit for anyone else, I need to do this for me not for the aim of helping anyone else, although if that happens I am glad.