Thursday 26 February 2009

The beach on the kitchen floor.

Manageable with parameters so tight others can hardly breathe, but I do very well, thank you. Open the door and a peal of dissent will rise from my throat, anguish in my eyes. Leave the light off too, if you please, because it's as close as I can possibly get to heaven when I sleep.

I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do anymore. I think just keep on moving, one foot in front of the other and just keep a lot more to myself and open up just a little more at the same time. Loosen up but keep it together. I don't understand that.

Today I understand some small things that I've attached to. I have a huge crush on Jesse Hasek's voice this morning, I'm plotting a cake run in the morning because it's been a long time, too long, actually, since there was cake in my house. I need to call around for some prices on some work for the house that can't be done by my jacks of all trades and I'm going to manage a lot of editing this morning, if I can, just to get ahead of my future plans to dominate the publishing world under my own name instead of a made-up one.

We'll be driving outside the city tonight with a telescope to take in comet Lulin. I almost wrote Lupin there. She circles the sky like a wayward toddler star and it will make me feel small and full of perspective about my life and that might last until I can fall asleep, if I'm lucky. Dreams would be nice. Longer darkness would be nice. Unprovoked happiness would be a gift and instead it's an effort and I never fully understood why I'm the one who carries this while you all walk along beside me, lighter and happy until further notice while I fight so hard to pull my mood up off the floor where it languishes.

You think time will fix that?

Then you don't know me at all.

Ben is home late tomorrow night if I'm lucky. For a while. I'm so glad because when he isn't in this house I feel that much more lost and so very alone and it just serves to magnify all the flaws that I bite back and fake some happy for him and then he's still happy instead of concerned and wow, is that ever tiring and please don't throw anything else into the mix because I just can't navigate anything but a few simple steps right now.

So conservative fatalistic optimism is what you get even though you probably came for something else. I don't understand it either. But you're here now, so you may as well come in and if you want to go to the beach with me, that would be great. I have some jars of sand and I'm going to dump them out on the floor and turn on all the lights and play music very loud like I always do and then cry because it just isn't the same and it never will be.
Keep changing your mind.
Like clouds in the sky.
Love me when you're high.
Leave me when you cry.
I know it all takes time.
Like a river running dry when the sun is too bright.