i'll let you know when i get there

so much of a doing is an undoing too an untangling of knots tracing back to sources that still tug at times shout their weight reaching back to let go of old threads that hold nothing together anymore but hold on still needle in hand and i've almost stitched up all those old wounds thread wound around my very own skin somehow feels brand new making something good

Last night I dreamed I was in Elisnore with J and C when an earthquake happened.  It just kept going on and on.  Everyone started to panic and grab furniture.  C darted off around the corner, not realizing the severity.  We could see the ground start to twist and move away from him.  J ran after him and pushed him toward me at the last possible second and I sheltered him.   I just kept thinking, "I have to brace myself.  I am about to die." I woke up from the anxiety, but I must have survived Because when I went back to sleep, I was on a huge boat with all kinds of other people who had survived a recent earthquake or natural disaster.  No one was sure of what was going to happen now but everyone was frantic to prepare for potential aftershocks.   I just kept trying to think of what I should do if the ship started sinking.  Should I climb outside?Would I be safer in the ocean adrift or should I stay inside and bury myself unde...

In the last few weeks, a strange number of doors at my place have broken.  closet door, shower door, screen door, all off track or ajar with some new stubbornness to close.  It would take a special effort to set them all back- a deliberate act.  It's almost as if something shifted at the foundation.  For now, they remain ajar. When you knocked, I answered without thinking.  Caught in some in-between state of dreaming and waking, I didn't have the wherewithal to ignore or hide or send you away.  I answered in my truest state.  Not my best, but my truest.  Disheveled and barely coherent, some delirious truth serum of fatigue and detachment.  I'm waking up now.  And here you are and here I am and I waking up now and I am still listening.

"In me she has drown a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish." "Mirror" -Sylvia Plath "I'm getting old," she says, touching her neck.  "Look at all these wrinkles." A constant state of surprise A strange reintroduction A failure to recognize your self in your skin How did things change when I feel quite the same? I fear these pictures from my mom's wedding will take me a month to get through.  They're all there- ready- but I can't get past the smallest batch before the swelling of some horrible force of emotion stalls me.  Who IS that?  Who IS she?  Where AM I in that frame? How did I spend the whole weekend with them an not see them at all?  How is it that my face? and to think these are the easy years- years that i will look back on in a few decades as vibrant with a lack of responsibility.  to think that the future scrapes toward a growing dependence- louder nee...

1. I think the whole "live your passion" or "find a job that doesn't feel like work" vibe applies only to the hoping and wishing middle class. The upper class don't need to be reminded- it is their reality. To insist upon pursuit of passion to the disenfranchised seems cruel. How about pursuit of basic needs? Passion and dreaming are the curse and blessing of the middle dwellers. Those who aren't but might be. 2. food money sex popularity youth drinking aspecificperson spirituality music smoking fitness at any given time, I think everyone it's in some manner controlled by some underlying fixation. listenand you'll hear it. 3. I think, out of nowhere, I caught a case of the blues. What to do.

goddamn it, to catch a glimpse is to crave the vision. there are some leaps i could take, i think.

Something that used to make me happy but now (kinda) makes me sad:   teaching Something that makes me sad:  Overweight middle aged people eating salad and raw vegetables for lunch every day.  What gives?  What is the point of anything? Something that used to make me sad but now makes me happy:  When my new neighbor had two little kids with loud little feet and screams in tow, I was a little annoyed.  I mean, I did not move to a residential neighborhood to live next to kids, right?  Right.  But I've softened up.  Every few mornings I get to hear a little exchange between the little six or seven boy and his live-in grandma as he leaves for school.  "I love you, grandma!" "I love you to infinity!" she'll say.  "I'll love you to infinity PLUS ONE!"  he'll respond.  Or "I love you, grandma."  "I love you more!"  "I love you most!"  He always has the last word and it is always perfect. Something that makes m...

It occurred to me today that my doubt about the sustainability of long term romantic relationships feels a lot like when I first started seriously questioning and breaking away from my religious belief.  It had nothing to do with no longer wanting to believe.  It had nothing to do with rebellion.  It just no longer made sense. I went through so much internal conflict in the beginning.  I begged for signs.  I tried to accept the lack of evidence.  I took the burden on myself, thinking that I just hadn't read enough or tried hard enough to make faith work.  But given that the questions I became brave enough to ask only lead to more unanswered questions, faith broke down entirely and rapidly when I refused to divorce it from my intellect. I feel that way now on a lot of levels.  For most of my life, I have never questioned the plausibility of commitment or marriage as an end.  In many ways, I think I'm built for partnered life... for a share...

I'm starting to think that almost everyone in the world is kinda sleezy.

so overdue except minus the Dewey Decimal system-like order 1.  To a Senior who shared with me news about her acceptance into a NY Performing Arts school, "It will be overwhelming... because you'll feel special and not special at the same time.  And the reality is, both are true." #realtalk 2.  Said and heard while sitting around at coffeeshops over teh last few months: "Let there be no record of our shame." -me "History is a trading of corruptions." -me "How many wars have the horses started?  None." -Neil #coffeehousephilosophers 3.  Too much work and no play makes Lindsey a financially stable(ish) adult.  #therearemoreimportantthings 4.  Last weekend I woke up in between unavoidable, restless naps with the distinct thought that someday, along with a birthday, I will have a death day.   Death hasn't been on my mind in any anxiety connected way since I dropped religion years ago.  I didn't necessarily feel panicked, just......

oh god, take me back to indifference: that sublime lack

"you sell yourself short.  aim high.  go in firing," they said.  they said to go in tall with unvanquished confidence.  a few hours later I got the polite rejection message and thought about the futility of aiming at all when it is almost certainly always too high or low (and which is better really?).  why aim at all?  why hustle or pronounce or project or aspire? shadowboxing a locked vault.  sweat and adrenaline into an unfeeling vortex. it's just unfortunate timing, really.  the real sting is just in the red i recently penned when i drew up my cost of living.  prognosis- negative.  subsisting on deficit for an unforeseeable future. (if i could go back, and had not been born in the midwest to a breed conditioned toward higher education, and had had a bit more prompting in the way of self-promotion and artistic edification, would i even have gone to college at all?) in the morning, after a night of light dreams, the parking tick...

We only want facts here. We'll derive feeling from how they fit together, or from the gaps they leave between. Just tell me about your day, Hemingway. You're chasing a ghost with a drink in your hand. The stupor will excuse you from fidelity to the truth, but you'll still record it in minute detail. Tell me more about which way the cab was headed, or what it looked like out that train window. I'll know by the middle that you're prophet for some obsolete religion. The cathedral walls ring empty, but I recognize that pull toward prayer. Hold her up like a relic. Chant with the choir over cocktails. We're all just along for the ride. I understand you like I understand the need to remember after the fact. The scramble to recall the morning commute that you ignored until you lost that job.  The pining for the everyday constants in middle of the relationship once your lover has moved on. How was it ever before? How was it ever at all?

I wish these words meant something a little different from what they do: LEVITY:  I wish it just meant lightness, without the disrespect VIGILANT:  I wish it just mean alert or aware, maybe even excited, without the threat of danger.