Tag Archives: Mindstream

3:00am

It’s really quiet now. Well aside from the music I have playing and the sound of my legs swooshing around in the water…

It’s quiet.

Jennifer is asleep in her bed, and Serge is asleep in my bed, and I’m in here, alone in the bathtub…alone with my thoughts.

I think I’d like to go to sleep, soon ideally…but I’m not really in a “sleepover” share a bed mood so maybe I’ll go crash on the couch. Or maybe I’ll fall asleep in the tub… Eh. Probably not a good idea if I want to be breathing in the morning.

My back is killing me again. Though the volume in my head is loud enough I’m barely noticing.

My head

My head…

My head.

Just before this I was writing an email, but I deleted it. Then I wrote another…and deleted that too. It feels strange not knowing what to say to someone…you once wanted to say everything too. And now…you feel… I feel like an intruder. A stranger…maybe? I think. IDK. Why am I asking myself questions? Hmm. I did it again.

I’ve been in the bath far too long. Normal people don’t take baths as long as I do. But…

You guys already know about me and normal.

I should get out.

I should do a lot of things.

Is it unfair getting to know someone new when the deepest parts of you are still undoing pieces of someone else? Or is that just life…and…

I mean it’s not like I technically even “had” these pieces to begin with.

So…

Why the hell does it continue to feel so hard to remove…from inside me…

OMG…and why do I keep asking myself non rhetorical questions!?

I’m not even making sense.

The water’s killing my brain cells.

I’ve gotta get outta this tub.

gone fishing

Well…for starters…prior to this I wrote three blogs, all incomplete…

Crowded room.

I can’t breath in here.

Somebody broke my fingers yesterday. Or maybe I dreamt that…otherwise who would be typing this?

So no broken fingers. Just me myself and an old friend.

Only I don’t feel like tapping into that side of myself in this moment. I need to feel “free” to write….that way. And lately I’ve been so far removed from this head of mine…all the words have become echoes.

Left over thoughts spoken too loud or too quietly.

And all after the fact.

It’s my head that keeps me up, throws me off…

I’m tilting a bit…

I don’t want to write anymore. These words probably only make sense to me so….

goodnight.

games

Light a match.

Which match?

One of the three over there on the table.

Will you turn on the light?

No.

I can’t see.

It’s straight ahead. Just walk forward.

Will you direct me, at least?

I just did.

Just turn on the light. Please?

No.

I CAN’T FUCKING SEE!

Ok.

Ok, what?

You can’t fucking see.

Never-mind.

There, I turned it up a little. There’s enough light.

For who?

You. Now go and light the match.

It’s lit.

Ok.

Now what?

Put it out.

Then what?

Nothing.

Nothing?

Yeah, nothing.

Then why—–

I just wanted to see if you’d light it.

this place

It’s strange inside this place.

I want to get up out of my seat and walk around.

She keeps nudging my shoulder.
Touching my arm.

“It’s soft” she says, drifting and drowsy…unaware of her actions.

I want to get up and walk around.

But I look outside the window instead.
The massive sandstorm of lights makes the darkness approachable.

If I were a level up from the crazy I already encompassed…I might think of jumping into it.

Let the dark swallow me whole.

Make friends with the unknown.

I want to get up and walk around.

I can hear her breathing. Her eyes are closed…finally.

She’s asleep.

If I move swiftly she might never notice my departure.

Though my absence…

That will be hard to ignore.

She looks so peaceful sleeping.

Hard to imagine such a quiet moment within that which brings forth so much chaos…

inside me.

I could pretend she never closed her eyes.

Outside,

The sky is twinkling.

Inside,

My senses are slipping.

The whirlpool is twisting and I feel glued to my seat.

But how?

She’s not even awake.

Her eyelids flutter as if she can hear my thoughts.

Maybe she can…

Read my thoughts.

I lean over her sleeping body…staring as though she were looking back at me.

In almost a hush I tell her, “I’d like to get up and walk around. And see…what else is out…there. I want to try and…get up.”

She shudders, then is still again.

Her cheeks flushed and red. I want to touch her face but I’m stuck…

Here in this seat.

Beside her, but not next to her.

I touch the air around her. Inhaling it’s bitter coolness. I lean over again and softly say, “I will get up…but…if you want me to stay…just open your eyes…

And look at me.”

infinite breeze

There’s a visible calm in the air.

If I reach straight forward and rested my hand out I could probably feel it breezing by my skin…

Like a cool day at the beach.

The kind of days where there aren’t too many tourists. It’s warm enough to go without a jacket, but cool enough for long sleeves. You walk along the sand just to feel it between your toes. The rocks are shiny and wet and…you take a few home to set on your shelf.

…to remember this calm, cool breezy day.

Inside if I reached….dived inside myself I’d surely discover more chaos. But for a moment…

I’m allowed to breath.

Still wanting.

Still needing.

Still wondering.

But breathing.

It’s not something I get to do often, so I’m enjoying it.

Have you ever wanted something for non selfish reasons? I mean want isn’t even a big enough word, and need sounds…idk….

But it’s like that breeze….you just need it. To surround you, to wrap you up, to engulf you. You want to inhale it again and again hoping it never goes away.

Because when it’s near, you breath easier, sleep deeper, and create so…much more.

Everything about the day is just that much better. And you hope that day will melt into forever.

An infinite breeze.

It’s like the sand in my toes and the rocks beneath my feet.

In my head I’ve collected 5 today. One is gray with skinny beige ripples across it, two are tiny and covered in green speckles. Another is also gray but massive and has a sharp jagged edge. The last is not too big or small and it’s semi translucent with debris trapped inside. Like someone injected it with murky stardust out of jealousy. I can even imagine running my hands along it’s “perfect” shell. What’s inside doesn’t scare me. It’s imperfections are what make it beautiful to me.

Like the breeze, it’s unpredictable. But I need it just the same.

So for now, I welcome this calm.

Stay as long as you like. Maybe the chaos is just minutes away. But until then…

My hand is outstretched and I can feel it blowing…calmly.

make believe

I’m curious…

If you all saw behind my mask if you’d still like what you “see”?

I woke up angry.

I woke up sad.

I woke up angry and sad, then became even angrier for being sad.

Lame.

Emotions, fuck you.

There’s so much I want to say right now.

So much.

Instead I did some work when I couldn’t sleep. And now I’m laying here typing this on my iPhone because I must move my fingers or I’ll go insane.

Something bad will happen if I don’t let out this frustration on somethinggggggggg.

This is why I write.

To calm down.

But I’m holding shit inside, so tension in my head is building up.

I want to break things.

I’ve got to stop. This isn’t helping. I’m fine, I’m fine.

::smiling::

Just peachy.

gay flag

Choir of young believers is playing….

I’m typing…

Serge is relaxing, reading, texting. I figured I’d take the chill time to bloggity blog. It’s flurrying outside….not quite snow…not rain….just wet white blobs of airy stuff…falling from the sky…I’m sure it will become snow the moment I leave. Just my luck.

“So dramatic going down…”

I love this song.

It’s late and maybe I should head home. Not sure if I want to be making it back after 3am, alone in this wack weather. I’ll leave soon. I was listening to Billie Holiday, Norah Jones, and Feist earlier….inspired the hell out of me. I’ve got melodies in my head. And half written songs begging to be completed. Why do I write songs when I don’t sing, nor play any instruments? It’s actually kind of annoying to me. Maybe I’ll start selling this shit. Or something. It’s the drawback to my lack of whining. When I don’t “whine” about love shit the backlash is music, and it comes in huge waves. I don’t mind. It just feels wasted on me since I never know what to do with it all. I told Heather I needed her to do something about it with me. Her girlfriend plays the piano, and she well, does fabulous things on her guitar and drums, she knows my sound, and I trust her….and it makes me smile…cuz I won’t sing in front of anyone but her, Jen, and AJ. Wait….this means I’ve gotta open my mouth in front of her new girl….iiicckkkk, fuck. I didn’t think about that.

Whatever. I’ll deal.

Maybe I’ll get the guts to go find my bio dad’s house, walk up to his door and throw my lyrics in his face. Like, “play this bitch!”

Serge is trying to get my attention.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………dfkhklahffiwsgfkvlhowFBGBGHDNBFGN…………………………………………………………………………DSAFBDFJG………………….. <—– That was me holding down keys like a 2 year old while talking to Serge.

So mature.

I feel very normal today. Lately. I want to express myself right now, and write something that’s not a song.

I want to run…

with words.

But nothing really wants to come out yet. I think my brain is boycotting me. It’s angry I’m neglecting my demons. But after awhile it gets old…your demons tripping about shit out of it’s control. The reality is…I read a lot of the blogs I wrote recently and mentally threw up at how ridiculous I sounded. I mean, all those feelings are…were real….hmmm…are real. It’s just I’m stronger than that. Worth more. And there’s no sense in crying over spilled milk. Not that I’ve spilt anything. And I guess I can break that down like the adult that I am, rather than childish little girl that wrote those previous blogs.

I’ve been contemplating spilling that milk. Life is short, and I’d rather exhale and reveal than keep it inside forever. I’m just tying to figure out how I can do that without losing a friend in the process. Truth is. I’ve experienced the reverse of this myself, a few times. But once it was very serious and the friendship was never the same.

I had just gotten out of a long relationship. A friend (who will remain nameless) that I had become very close to in a matter of 3 or so years…revealed her true feelings. It went something like, “I’ve always wanted to tell you this but didn’t know how……Every time I’m around you I have to hide my true self because……You’re everything I want in a Woman……..Now that you’re not with so and so I thought this is my moment…..I’m in love with you…..Please tell me you’ll give me a chance…..”

I was in shock. I had no fucking idea…..none at all. I knew she thought I was attractive, and had a little “crush” but I thought it was playful. We’d never ever been anything but platonic friends. Nothing more. So to discover this was not easy for me. And I say that because I did not feel the same way. I spent some time trying to figure out what to do about it. I didn’t want to be a bitch because I cared about her. But I also wanted to tell her right away that I didn’t feel the same. So that’s what I did. I told her I felt very very special to know she held me in such high regard, but that there was no way we could be more than friends. I just didn’t see her like that. She seemed to respect how I felt. I thought everything would be ok. But it wasn’t. We grew apart the years to follow. The friendship we’d built suddenly turned into occasional hellos, checking in, and then silence. I got the cold shoulder. It sucked. I really would have loved to have had her friendship. But just because I wasn’t in love with her back….I lost a friend?

So you see why this freaks me out?

You just don’t mix friendship and fucking love unless you both feel the same way. Otherwise you’ve got to be willing to face the fact that one party might not be so cool with the news, or reaction to the news. How do you act after knowing such information? I feel like it complicates every aspect of seemingly platonic situations. It puts every word, action, and their sequential feelings under a microscope. Not to mention this person is important to me so losing them would suck. And I don’t want to be that girl…that feels a certain way for someone….and….that feeling is just hanging around in the air…between you both like….so ugghhh….yeah….how about that red baloon up there….you gonna pop it, or should I?

I’m trying to pop my own balloon before letting it float into her vision. I feel that would hurt less than her popping it. Which I’m already prepared for. So that’s where I am with all of this. Attempting to make it go away. The feeling. Not so easy though.

::Sigh::

Also…I hate secrets. And especially not telling her feels weird….because…I’m uniquely connected to her energy…and I don’t like hiding things from her.

Is that weird to…..idk what I was going to ask……

And the rest of what I was going to say….feels too intense to say….here….while I’m attempting to be anything but intense about this all.

::thinking::

damn….my brain….now it wants to work…but….

…Serge is trying to get my attention again……

………………….dfhwepjifdkfl…………………………………………………………………………………………………………jdifhihfiafidhfijfsvhwvisf………………………… <—- sorry 2 year old came back.

I’m getting playfully yelled at, lol. About something that happened earlier.

This very “interesting” girl tried to invite herself along for the night while I was walking. That’s what I get for getting off at 2nd ave instead of Astor Place. She was just trying to hit on me but literally followed me for blocks, trying to buy beer and come up with me to Serge’s. When I said no (after calling and letting her hear him say no too) she got really coo coo and moody. Totally pissed her off. It was the most random shit ever. She was almost my type. Ha. “Almost.” So I didn’t fucking care that she got pissy.

Anyways, Serge thought it was hilarious and currently has begun singing a silly song about it. It’s too vulgar to say all the words….but this bag I have….that’s not even gay….my laptop is in it, and it’s blue with yellow, orange, and green stripes on it….not a rainbow…but he’s convinced it was the culprit that turned on miss crazy.

My NOT gay bag!

So now this ridiculous song about pu**y, gay flags, and titties is being sung over and over by my wonderful insane friend. Oh god….there’s a dance too, he’s dancing and singing….omg I wish I had my video camera…..this is ridiculous….seriously…..ok….I’ve got to stop typing……need to join in….I can’t concentrate! 😛