this will be a new practice.
a-one and a-two and a-three and a (dot.dot.dot.dot)
mood swing
~!~!~!~
when i forget how to talk, i sing
won't you please
bring that flash to shine
and turn my eyes red
unless they close
when you click
and my face gets sick, stuck
like a question - unposed
~wilco
so, today is melancholy music day in the house of love.
i realize that it's probably due to my current hormonal imbalance, but i just don't want to go out tonight.
i'd much rather curl up with my blanket and finish this book i'm reading before monday comes.
sometimes being a girl is just such a fucking pain in the ass.
however, i'd say that the monthly cleanse of stale blood (figurative and literal, mind you) is a good thing.
(besides the fact that it means i can still have babies and stuff) it's like a nice flushing sound. a good way to get wonky, get over it, get a grip
i'll be just fine in a few days.
meanwhile - i'll be over here... swaying to my headphones, absorbed in one thing or another, staring into space, mouth half-open (i want to say something but think better about it when i catch myself)
it's not a frown, i promise. it's just the grit.
but it's FRIDAY, hey hey hey
if you sit around and think too much like i sometimes do, you can notice how much change goes on in one day and it's fucking amazing.
i want to keep the change, of course, roll with it, stay home, all that.
(i so often go back to that composition - and that was two and a half years ago that i wrote it...
)
but really. the way we build.
i'd rather not have to work today, either, but i have so much to do and i hate missing fridays because i don't like leaving my desk a mess over the weekend,
even though it's highly likely that i will just be back in there tomorrow morning.
in fact - i'm going to go ahead and state that as something i HAVE TO DO because it's ridiculous, i just need to.
also:
buy mom's gift
deposit paycheck
think about saturday night for girls
mother's day party on sunday(don't forget cranium)
laundry
clean your fucking room - it's a sty
look for boxes to begin packing
mail eebie's card
clean out your purse / finish paying bills
bleeh bleeh bleeh
in thirty years, i'm sure i will be suffering another major hormonal change, as my mother is doing now,
but is it really necessary to keep the house at fucking sub-zero temperatures?!
yikes...
i sound negative.
i'm not
everything is really quite wonderful.
i'm still feeling at peace, just... paying attention and trying to be somewhat rational and trivial, too.
don't want the deep shit today. i mean, i want it - i just can't take it too seriously.
oh man.
mostly because i still don't know what to do so i'm just going along.
heh.
funny.
why is it that being so sure of something is so fucking scary?
i've taken to just dumping my "in box" out on my desk in front of me.
fucking hell.
i'm glad that i have windows.
i can sit in my office without those harsh fluorescents on, a candle lit... the gray day leaking in between the slats of the blinds...
it's good for my mood.
schwing!
so yeah.
hoppy flyday
this applies to today, too...
a good transcription (two weeks ago):
if i were me... (?)
i'd been feeling crooked (pheh)
obviously patterns repeat
breaking the pattern is as much so... (repetative)
it's that thing you have to do but oh how it hurts so you stay away.
sometimes.
response...
(answer this question)
how to balance each opportunity with choice?
something fun about keeping odd and inconsistent journals is that when i grab one from the shelf (because i've carried others away and left them,) i find pieces where they were and reminisce.
it translates for me (it will grow, i assure you):
keep your heart, stay close
of course i agree.
i have believed as long as i can remember...
i live here -
but it's what i have to share
always coming home
and it's been such a mess of late,
something happened - i know you understand.
i know you can't feel it for me, but it's where i'm at.
yes, i did it to myself
a trail of blood behind me
(we always do it to ourselves, don't we?)
analogies, certain ones, remain prevalent in my imagination - in the images i use to put my head together.
(it's why i'm so vague - just trying to put my head together)
all the maintenance - the building i do to keep my walls up, the superficial sprucing to keep my little world bright.
i have been in this den
signs on the outside,
and making contact,
but i keep too much. i take it all.
too much and too far; it's how i get the scars.
something about running to strangers
misha had his little bird ideas - i can understand... a singing heart to freedom
and amy drew that boy inside the wire house
and harry potter with the winged keys
though, even when your door is ajar, what draws you out of the cage?
(and aren't you lucky when you hop along?)
is it how we use the dismay?
some spirit encourages you to set it aflame, put it out, burn it down
what's happening is only now again.
it's simple, really
and it's like i'm in the great fucking wide open
sometimes it seems to go so fast. it's relevant but relative, the movement.
patience and pace
but confusion comes to determine some good way of honoring that...
so back to the source you go...
thank god.
~-~-~-~
people sometimes tell me to lie to myself so i can overcome obstacles, ignore them, block them out.
but you know - i refuse to do that. it's why i'm so fucking analytical (possibly why i'm so fucking emotional, too.)
i mean, i should probably take everything more for what it's worth and how it's offered but i look look look too hard. and i'm skeptical; optimistic but suspicious.
i don't want to be delusional
what shit would that be?
~got to be real
i think i have a bad habit of revealing my hand
- 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 -
He said, "honey, awe, you've gotten tough"
'cause my tone
was curt.
yeah
and when i'm approached
in a dark alley,
i don't lift my skirt.
in this city,
self-preservation is a full-time occupation.
i'm determined
to survive on this shore.
you know, i don't
avert my eyes anymore.
in a man's world, i am ...
a woman by birth
and after nineteen
times around, i have found
they will stop at nothing once they know what you are worth.
talk to me now.
i played the powerless
in too many dark scenes,
and i was blessed with a birth and a death,
and i guess
i just want some say in between.
dont you understand?
in the day to day
all the face to face,
i have to act
just as strong as i can
just to preserve a place where i can be who i am.
oh, if you still know how,
you can
talk to me now
oh, if you still know how,
you can talk to me now
[...]
~ani difranco
it's the little things.
the reminders.
~!
and you know,
i'm trying to think about this...
mom makes all these funny remarks about how i'm spoiled... but she's doing it to me.
it's not that i'm not capable. in fact, i MISS my own fucking space, my own place, my own idiosyncracies free to do as they please!
i think maybe she wants to feel like i need her. and i can't deny that i do, she really enhances my life -
but it's not that i couldn't survive without her.
that's the point, for me, partly, in being a parent. i learned this from sam (i miss her) ... she said her goal when raising chad was to ensure that he could live his life without her. i just think that's so wise.
Growth in wisdom can be measured precisely by decline in bile.
~Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
(hahahahahahahahahahahahaha *ahem*)
there were so many years that my mother and i couldn't get along. i don't know exactly what it was that had us clashing but now it's different.
she wants me to need her - she wants to dote on me. she steals the laundry basket from my room, she tries to anticipate my needs ... i can relate to the feeling but in some ways, as endearing as it can be, it's stifling.
maybe because i want her to know what i really want. is that snobbish of me?
those beans and rice she want to think i'll be asking for... i want her to know that i don't really care for white rice, i like the whole grain... i want her to know that i don't want the beans cooked with ham or beef and i can make my own salsa, i don't like it from the jar with msg.
and i like corn tortillas, ma.
it's silly, i know.
she just has enough to do.
but she loves me. it's odd how i come to terms with it now versus ten years ago when we were making that turning point,
that dramatic teenage trial.
but that's what it's about, unconditional...
we just toughed it out,
stayed as kind as we could manage while being true to ourselves
and still love.
what the hell am i talking about?!
i'm getting all mush about my mom!
~!~
enough
~
things haven't been the same
since you came into my life ...
you found a way to touch my soul
and i'm never ever ever gonna let it go ...
happiness lies in your own hands
~
(sing it, A)
a-one and a-two and a-three and a (dot.dot.dot.dot)
mood swing
~!~!~!~
when i forget how to talk, i sing
won't you please
bring that flash to shine
and turn my eyes red
unless they close
when you click
and my face gets sick, stuck
like a question - unposed
~wilco
so, today is melancholy music day in the house of love.
i realize that it's probably due to my current hormonal imbalance, but i just don't want to go out tonight.
i'd much rather curl up with my blanket and finish this book i'm reading before monday comes.
sometimes being a girl is just such a fucking pain in the ass.
however, i'd say that the monthly cleanse of stale blood (figurative and literal, mind you) is a good thing.
(besides the fact that it means i can still have babies and stuff) it's like a nice flushing sound. a good way to get wonky, get over it, get a grip
i'll be just fine in a few days.
meanwhile - i'll be over here... swaying to my headphones, absorbed in one thing or another, staring into space, mouth half-open (i want to say something but think better about it when i catch myself)
it's not a frown, i promise. it's just the grit.
but it's FRIDAY, hey hey hey
if you sit around and think too much like i sometimes do, you can notice how much change goes on in one day and it's fucking amazing.
i want to keep the change, of course, roll with it, stay home, all that.
(i so often go back to that composition - and that was two and a half years ago that i wrote it...
)
but really. the way we build.
i'd rather not have to work today, either, but i have so much to do and i hate missing fridays because i don't like leaving my desk a mess over the weekend,
even though it's highly likely that i will just be back in there tomorrow morning.
in fact - i'm going to go ahead and state that as something i HAVE TO DO because it's ridiculous, i just need to.
also:
buy mom's gift
deposit paycheck
think about saturday night for girls
mother's day party on sunday(don't forget cranium)
laundry
clean your fucking room - it's a sty
look for boxes to begin packing
mail eebie's card
clean out your purse / finish paying bills
bleeh bleeh bleeh
in thirty years, i'm sure i will be suffering another major hormonal change, as my mother is doing now,
but is it really necessary to keep the house at fucking sub-zero temperatures?!
yikes...
i sound negative.
i'm not
everything is really quite wonderful.
i'm still feeling at peace, just... paying attention and trying to be somewhat rational and trivial, too.
don't want the deep shit today. i mean, i want it - i just can't take it too seriously.
oh man.
mostly because i still don't know what to do so i'm just going along.
heh.
funny.
why is it that being so sure of something is so fucking scary?
i've taken to just dumping my "in box" out on my desk in front of me.
fucking hell.
i'm glad that i have windows.
i can sit in my office without those harsh fluorescents on, a candle lit... the gray day leaking in between the slats of the blinds...
it's good for my mood.
schwing!
so yeah.
hoppy flyday
this applies to today, too...
a good transcription (two weeks ago):
if i were me... (?)
i'd been feeling crooked (pheh)
obviously patterns repeat
breaking the pattern is as much so... (repetative)
it's that thing you have to do but oh how it hurts so you stay away.
sometimes.
response...
(answer this question)
how to balance each opportunity with choice?
something fun about keeping odd and inconsistent journals is that when i grab one from the shelf (because i've carried others away and left them,) i find pieces where they were and reminisce.
it translates for me (it will grow, i assure you):
keep your heart, stay close
of course i agree.
i have believed as long as i can remember...
i live here -
but it's what i have to share
always coming home
and it's been such a mess of late,
something happened - i know you understand.
i know you can't feel it for me, but it's where i'm at.
yes, i did it to myself
a trail of blood behind me
(we always do it to ourselves, don't we?)
analogies, certain ones, remain prevalent in my imagination - in the images i use to put my head together.
(it's why i'm so vague - just trying to put my head together)
all the maintenance - the building i do to keep my walls up, the superficial sprucing to keep my little world bright.
i have been in this den
signs on the outside,
and making contact,
but i keep too much. i take it all.
too much and too far; it's how i get the scars.
something about running to strangers
misha had his little bird ideas - i can understand... a singing heart to freedom
and amy drew that boy inside the wire house
and harry potter with the winged keys
though, even when your door is ajar, what draws you out of the cage?
(and aren't you lucky when you hop along?)
is it how we use the dismay?
some spirit encourages you to set it aflame, put it out, burn it down
what's happening is only now again.
it's simple, really
and it's like i'm in the great fucking wide open
sometimes it seems to go so fast. it's relevant but relative, the movement.
patience and pace
but confusion comes to determine some good way of honoring that...
so back to the source you go...
thank god.
~-~-~-~
people sometimes tell me to lie to myself so i can overcome obstacles, ignore them, block them out.
but you know - i refuse to do that. it's why i'm so fucking analytical (possibly why i'm so fucking emotional, too.)
i mean, i should probably take everything more for what it's worth and how it's offered but i look look look too hard. and i'm skeptical; optimistic but suspicious.
i don't want to be delusional
what shit would that be?
~got to be real
i think i have a bad habit of revealing my hand
- 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 -
He said, "honey, awe, you've gotten tough"
'cause my tone
was curt.
yeah
and when i'm approached
in a dark alley,
i don't lift my skirt.
in this city,
self-preservation is a full-time occupation.
i'm determined
to survive on this shore.
you know, i don't
avert my eyes anymore.
in a man's world, i am ...
a woman by birth
and after nineteen
times around, i have found
they will stop at nothing once they know what you are worth.
talk to me now.
i played the powerless
in too many dark scenes,
and i was blessed with a birth and a death,
and i guess
i just want some say in between.
dont you understand?
in the day to day
all the face to face,
i have to act
just as strong as i can
just to preserve a place where i can be who i am.
oh, if you still know how,
you can
talk to me now
oh, if you still know how,
you can talk to me now
[...]
~ani difranco
it's the little things.
the reminders.
~!
and you know,
i'm trying to think about this...
mom makes all these funny remarks about how i'm spoiled... but she's doing it to me.
it's not that i'm not capable. in fact, i MISS my own fucking space, my own place, my own idiosyncracies free to do as they please!
i think maybe she wants to feel like i need her. and i can't deny that i do, she really enhances my life -
but it's not that i couldn't survive without her.
that's the point, for me, partly, in being a parent. i learned this from sam (i miss her) ... she said her goal when raising chad was to ensure that he could live his life without her. i just think that's so wise.
Growth in wisdom can be measured precisely by decline in bile.
~Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
(hahahahahahahahahahahahaha *ahem*)
there were so many years that my mother and i couldn't get along. i don't know exactly what it was that had us clashing but now it's different.
she wants me to need her - she wants to dote on me. she steals the laundry basket from my room, she tries to anticipate my needs ... i can relate to the feeling but in some ways, as endearing as it can be, it's stifling.
maybe because i want her to know what i really want. is that snobbish of me?
those beans and rice she want to think i'll be asking for... i want her to know that i don't really care for white rice, i like the whole grain... i want her to know that i don't want the beans cooked with ham or beef and i can make my own salsa, i don't like it from the jar with msg.
and i like corn tortillas, ma.
it's silly, i know.
she just has enough to do.
but she loves me. it's odd how i come to terms with it now versus ten years ago when we were making that turning point,
that dramatic teenage trial.
but that's what it's about, unconditional...
we just toughed it out,
stayed as kind as we could manage while being true to ourselves
and still love.
what the hell am i talking about?!
i'm getting all mush about my mom!
~!~
enough
~
things haven't been the same
since you came into my life ...
you found a way to touch my soul
and i'm never ever ever gonna let it go ...
happiness lies in your own hands
~
(sing it, A)
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
what up?