Joy as an act of Resistance

I need more joy.  I need more resistance.  Maybe a little more sleep too.

The Goblet of Fire

I'm 35 and reading the Harry Potter series for the first time.  I also just worked my first 12 hour shift off orientation in the psych ED.  I'm tired, but not too tired to try and finish the fourth Harry Potter book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.  I loved the first three books, they were fun, The Goblet of Fire is breaking my heart.  The kids at the border locked in detention centers are also breaking my heart, and the father crying because he's so stressed out and doesn't know how to care for his son experiencing his first psychotic break is breaking my heart.  Life can be fucking tough.  I don't have a vault in Gringots and I don't have a magic wand, but sometimes I feel as lucky as Harry when I think about the life cards I've been dealt.  Daily life is really bad for a lot of people.  Some days I can compartmentalize that painful realization away and other days the stark realities outside my carefully curated bubble threaten to spill forth like a broken dam.

Anyway, as Albus Dumbledore said in his year end "Leaving Speech" at Hogwarts after the death of Cedric Diggory, "In light of Lord Voldemort's Return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.  Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is great.  We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust.  Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."  (Sub Lord Voldemort, for Donald J Trump)

We all want and deserve to feel loved and safe and valid.  If you can't get down with that, if you want to make the simple act of living more difficult for others, you can fuck right off.  I sincerely hope that something falls out of the sky and lands on you.  That goes for the Donald Trumps and the major micro-aggressors of the world that prey on the vulnerabilities of others.

Rare Fox

It's  been a good weekend for nostalgia.  I just wish everything else in the world wasn't a trash fire.

Irrationally annoyed at the resident.  Puzzled about the other brother.  And how time elapses and expectations wax and wane. More sure.

I'm actually pretty good at consistency these days.  A quiet steadiness that is rooted in something I have yet to unearth in myself.

I felt Power

There was an electricity in the air.  Th e kind mixed with
tenderness and vulnerability.

Stuckbetween what we've done and #Whatweregonnado

Or maybe it was just the wind and the rain
the off beat pulse of your heart to the beat

 -----
(NTS)
Realizing that you truly don't owe anyone shit is exhilarating.
Help others realize this and then give them your hand and pull them up.
That is your life's intention.  Nothing else really matters.


-----
Masculinity in general is really toxic.  What the fuck?  How did we let that happen, as human beings, how did we let 'masculinity' and capitalism run amok?  Historically speaking.

Beginnings of fall
67 degrees F
Precip 40%
Humidity 76%

It me 2018.

Summer Steez

Hiking boots, short shorts, not treating your body like garbage, friends, books, and letting go of shit that's out of your control.

Summah Summah Time

There is fresh snow on the ground and it's a few days into spring, but I can't help but dream about the summer. 

Summer goals:

1) Maybe get a moped

2) Work on my Spanish (for real)

3) Not work too much.

4) Go camping.

Simple woman with simple pleasures.

Untitled

This is really fun.

A Builders Dream

I'm currently experiencing a sort of emotional hangover.  At the moment I feel exhausted and not really useful for anyone, and I'm struggling to maintain an openness toward others.  Though this feeling is isolating and it's not a space I'd like to spend too much time, I'm glad I'm getting better at identifying the triggering factors of this mood. For maybe the first time I find relief knowing that this malaise is transient.

I know that it's okay to need time alone, but the last couple of days I noticed myself falling back into old nasty patterns.  Personal patterns that are fear based and not quite understood.  Being strong for other people seems to be pushing me into a sort of defense state of my own.  Allowing certain people access and putting up blockades to others may feel easier, but it isn't growth minded.

I kicked the cat out of my room so I could get a good nights sleep.  Tiny steps to shaking this hangover and getting back to normal life (whatever that means).  I only feel a little guilty.

Elastic Heart

More Than Language

I felt liberated because I could smoke in a bar, and I wasn't even a smoker.  And we all talked about community.  In that scotch and soda moment, I realized I could get along anywhere.  I could move freely among so many circles.  I was that character in the book he gave me, except I had nothing to hide.

I had nothing to fear.

On this subject or that; Time worth living.

Is this difficult for you?

Extremely.  But I'll deal with it.

::2015::

The Ways We Die
The Stories We Tell Ourselves
They Ways We live


"Above all, greater security is a result of communicating your needs and being responsive to your partners needs. When you can do this effectively, you’ll find yourself less troubled and your relationships more happy and gratifying."

 - I forgot where this came from, but it's pretty legit.

Reconstruction Site

Just because you miss someone really hard, doesn't mean they'll come back. Ever.  So it's a-ok to be bummed.

It is one way to live...

He said I'm jealous of your life.  I told him I was jealous of his.  We laughed knowing one could have the other easily.  He looked at me long and hard, occasionally commenting on a habit or body part of mine.  I gave him a hard time about whatever I could think of, it was all I could do to keep from getting pulled in too deep.  I think I failed at this, but not miserably.

He said, "what are you thinking?"  Hating that question more than anything (and being honest and vulnerable), I still answered.

"Just between you and me ... I'm hungry and sad that you're leaving."
"Come here.  I'm sad too, but I'll be back."
And then we napped.  Me, soft and snoring, him lightly or not at all.

I never asked him to come, and I never took him seriously.  I didn't ask for any of this.  As he packed up his car I bit my lip anxious for him to leave so I could hide under my blankets.  He paused packing to ask himself just what he thought he was doing with his life?  I wasn't the only anxious one.

Come with me he said.  Maybe he meant it, maybe he said it because he knew I'd say no.  Maybe that was just me thinking no one can really love me.  And then we kissed like we were in a stupid movie.

I'll be back in a month, he said.  Undecided whether or not this would be a good thing.  He was gone almost as quickly as he arrived.  I searched for traces of him, of our time together, half convinced we never existed in the same space.

Forgiving

We're neither pure; nor wise; nor good; we do the best we know.
- Voltaire 

Anxious and Worrying

In the Dust of This Planet

The silence on the other side of the line
     Expressing
A rejection of something is
An acceptance of another
     Nothing
The loudest mic drop

You Forgot It in People

I'm tired of cute pet videos on the internet.  There.  I said it.

Tiffin

And then he wanted to sit on the same side of the booth...

The Dark Side of Love

The two men that have had the greatest impact on me have both put P.J. Harvey on mixes for me.  I'm sure there is something to be gleaned from that fact, but who's to say what that is.