i'll let you know when i get there

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...