my immune system has called out sick. she's laying in bed, smoking pot, drinking beer, & blowing cigarette smoke into the cold air.
i'd fire her, but she's got too much control. she's never delegated -- she prefers to do everything herself, because then she knows it'll be done properly & to her standards. only she's also a perfectionist -- if she can't get it right, she won't do it at all.
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this painful aching enveloping my body -- angering me, frustrating me, leading me into a trap designed for my entire being -- is neither good nor bad.
IT JUST IS. a fact among facts. yet another descriptor of my own unique experience within my own understanding of this thing, my life.
acceptance comes with difficulty, but will be more than welcome when it arrives wet & trembling, having trudged through all those whipping winds & cold stormy nights.
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my sweetest love, thank you for being. i cannot say it enough. you more than counter the material effects of disease. these, our transcendant souls, dance. even now.
i'd fire her, but she's got too much control. she's never delegated -- she prefers to do everything herself, because then she knows it'll be done properly & to her standards. only she's also a perfectionist -- if she can't get it right, she won't do it at all.
**************************************************
this painful aching enveloping my body -- angering me, frustrating me, leading me into a trap designed for my entire being -- is neither good nor bad.
IT JUST IS. a fact among facts. yet another descriptor of my own unique experience within my own understanding of this thing, my life.
acceptance comes with difficulty, but will be more than welcome when it arrives wet & trembling, having trudged through all those whipping winds & cold stormy nights.
**************************************************
my sweetest love, thank you for being. i cannot say it enough. you more than counter the material effects of disease. these, our transcendant souls, dance. even now.
we used to talk about shuttling down the side of one of the towers; the first time i mentioned it was when we did acid between our freshman semesters. i remember staring up at them in the crystalline winter, crisp air, numb lips. it seemed the most beautiful way to die. as a last wish, given to fly for only a few seconds. but then, what is a second?
i remember in the early days of acid - i remember that crystalline crisp winter - i remember coming across a tree entirely coated in ice - the beauty of it. what i still find most beautiful is the understanding - the complexities of understanding. between the experience and the person. between you and me.
i've seen so many things and done so many horrible things to myself in search of...something. i miss you. but i've never left you in a way and sometimes feel like that missing isn't so missing after all.
if any of that makes sense.
you know, i loved you the most too. still.
and i danced around the issue because you felt like my soul mate already, so nothing else needed to be done.
i've felt the urge to fly more times than i can count.
i value you because i can say that. because you understand the feeling. and the cold. the winter, the ice - and not its symbology, but the experience of it. the brute down to life 'i am here' and 'it just is' of it all.
i love you.
the words will linger on my tongue perpetually.