Come at it from a different angle
...from one viewpoint, you could say that we are important like the sun, providing light and warmth for distances unmeasurable by the conscious mind. Without us, there are no gardens and the void swallows life in this little corner of the 'verse.
Of course, if we are the sun, we are also destroying ourselves and each other in a nuclear reaction that reduces everything to the void, eventually. So do you want to burn with me a little longer?
To burn, to feel the ripping lines of heat as they melt my skin to itself in scars, to stand in the flame and defy the suffering the pleasure of making me move...that is what you're offering me. And the hardest part is...that's what you're offering you too.
If it was just me dying for you to go on unscathed, I'd be tempted. But it turns out you've lured others into this fire, and as I look back at the ashen or still glowing embers that remain of what I've tried to make a beacon of light and love, I realize that the path we blazed is a path we razed. I look down where my hands used to be and find claws, and I wish the red-brown on them was cooled magma.
I'm just the bait until I'm a weapon, and waking up to that reality is something I would rather forego for the rest of forever. I'm light, and I'm a lot of it, and yeah when you focus it through a magnet I'll laser straight through just about anything. Yeah I'm pressure-forged carbon, and I'm indestructible.
I had wanted to use that strength to empower others and protect those that need it, but when I loaned it to you? You used it to deceive them, craft an illusion of reality by way of refracting my rainbow hues. Why would I ever give that to you again?
And that's just what you did with my shine, the sun-shine that comes from every star without a broken heart. Never mind the silencing of my voice, shunning of my sparkle.
"Don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not.
You're only sorry you got caught.
Well you put on quite a show...
But it's over now."
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Would you read this story?
ISO: Soul
Oh hello. Please come in. Sit down, but don't look at the plants. Yes, your qualifications are all in order. You seem to have been homeless for quite some time.
Unfinished business? Ah yes. We have an opening in a writer. Do be delicate; our records indicate some damage to the psyche the last time you had access. I understand your records ought to be sealed, sir, but I'm afraid that the level of clearance merited our interest in your past.
No, good behavior for a century does not erase a past mistake. It simply give us hope that you have learned temperance and will succeed this go-round.
That's very well and good, sir, but not what we are here to discuss. If you distract from the focus again, I would be happy to give you more time to work on patience.
Very well, then. The vessel has some...quirks. She doesn't know her role yet; a rogue missive interrupted her journey. We've asked you here because it will take more than a gentle nudge. Mind you, this is not a vessel we can lose, so you've got one chance.
I like your confidence. Here's her file, complete with the failures of other operatives. I'll see you at 4:16am, sharp.
Oh, and Lu? You see this one through and you'll be free.
Oh hello. Please come in. Sit down, but don't look at the plants. Yes, your qualifications are all in order. You seem to have been homeless for quite some time.
Unfinished business? Ah yes. We have an opening in a writer. Do be delicate; our records indicate some damage to the psyche the last time you had access. I understand your records ought to be sealed, sir, but I'm afraid that the level of clearance merited our interest in your past.
No, good behavior for a century does not erase a past mistake. It simply give us hope that you have learned temperance and will succeed this go-round.
That's very well and good, sir, but not what we are here to discuss. If you distract from the focus again, I would be happy to give you more time to work on patience.
Very well, then. The vessel has some...quirks. She doesn't know her role yet; a rogue missive interrupted her journey. We've asked you here because it will take more than a gentle nudge. Mind you, this is not a vessel we can lose, so you've got one chance.
I like your confidence. Here's her file, complete with the failures of other operatives. I'll see you at 4:16am, sharp.
Oh, and Lu? You see this one through and you'll be free.
Saturday, October 20, 2018
Making Reality
Context:
just finished watching The Greatest Showman.
I could watch it over again, right now, just to let the messages sink in...
Dream BIG.
No, bigger than that.
"Make it bigger; make it louder."
Makes me miss someone.
And what of my dreams? Finally, I am well. Finally, I am functional, capable, supported.
It seems that mental health comes with a solid dose of serious reality. I'm not sure how to find the balance.
Dream! But not too much. Fly! But not too far. The boundaries of reality have become mental bars that I need to stretch into musical bars so they can carry my song on the breeze, on the ashes of a dead phoenix dying to bring the world one last message of beauty and hope.
What impossible thing do you believe in?
If the answer is nothing, my friend, I must regret to inform you that you are neglecting a crucial part of yourself.
Apparently my imagination has been so stuffed into a corner of itself (which is lovely when clever bags can do that and convert easily from tiny little puts into large bags of holding) that it drove me to stay up and write this evening. Something has been neglected.
I'm a dreamer. It's what I'm truly good at. I'm working really hard on being a DOer, someone whose actions reflect their goals, but imagining beautiful futures is something I have a knack for.
Also, I can turn your weakness into a superpower.
My oh my do I love words. They can craft a dinghy into a full-blown submarine.
Did P.T. Barnum lie? Yes, I suppose he did. Yet the joy and wonder he created, the smiles and the sheer amazement of it all...that was real enough.
On a different note, I learned that ashes can be turned into a strong road base today.
Back on topic. My dreams...what am I working for? Why? Is there a who?
A house, with
-too many bedrooms
-too many bathrooms
-underground tunnels that lead to dwarf mines
-the space for everyone I love to be under one roof
-basically the same layout as the Sim house I made with HW when I was actually shorter than I am now
-love
-lots of animals
I just want to have it all so I can give it away.
A barn
-to facilitate riding for every little girl who wants to ride a pony
-to provide a great place to run away and think when you need it
-to give others a place of healing
And I have children entrusted to me right now, and I feel that there are more coming into my life, and I want desperately to pass on this *thing* I have inside me that helps me believe that I am MORE than just the sum of my days, MORE than stardust in a skin suit, that I am capable of changing and shifting reality to suit what *must* happen.
But that? That sounds crazy.
...Dream big anyway, right?
I don't know where my dreams are leading. Things are so fantastically pleasant right now. I found a home. I am making it mine. I found Love. I found many, many loves. I found support and family. The best things in life are right here in front of me- so what am I working for?
I want to say something lofty, like "the future happiness of humanity."
You know what? I actually believe that I make the world a better place, even if it's just by THIS much. Even if, in all of the infinite-ness of space and time, the only amount of difference is the space between the T and the S in that word...it will have been worth it. Even if, at the end of Everything, my work and time and effort mean nothing, it's worth it. I have to answer to myself in my own mind at the end of the day.
Here's to signing my name at the end of each day, like a contract that I'm making with Time.
"Thank you for the minutes. This is what I've done with them." If only Time were not so fair. She gives the same time to everyone. No one has to deserve it or earn it. We all get the same deposit in our daily minute fund. I know some of my days, I felt I deserved overtime. Other days...I squandered the gift. I suppose it's best that She is fair...the same time to all.
Thankful that some days, I'm able to stretch out the minutes to include everything I need. Thankful that some days, the day goes by fast.
just finished watching The Greatest Showman.
I could watch it over again, right now, just to let the messages sink in...
Dream BIG.
No, bigger than that.
"Make it bigger; make it louder."
Makes me miss someone.
And what of my dreams? Finally, I am well. Finally, I am functional, capable, supported.
It seems that mental health comes with a solid dose of serious reality. I'm not sure how to find the balance.
Dream! But not too much. Fly! But not too far. The boundaries of reality have become mental bars that I need to stretch into musical bars so they can carry my song on the breeze, on the ashes of a dead phoenix dying to bring the world one last message of beauty and hope.
What impossible thing do you believe in?
If the answer is nothing, my friend, I must regret to inform you that you are neglecting a crucial part of yourself.
Apparently my imagination has been so stuffed into a corner of itself (which is lovely when clever bags can do that and convert easily from tiny little puts into large bags of holding) that it drove me to stay up and write this evening. Something has been neglected.
I'm a dreamer. It's what I'm truly good at. I'm working really hard on being a DOer, someone whose actions reflect their goals, but imagining beautiful futures is something I have a knack for.
Also, I can turn your weakness into a superpower.
My oh my do I love words. They can craft a dinghy into a full-blown submarine.
Did P.T. Barnum lie? Yes, I suppose he did. Yet the joy and wonder he created, the smiles and the sheer amazement of it all...that was real enough.
On a different note, I learned that ashes can be turned into a strong road base today.
Back on topic. My dreams...what am I working for? Why? Is there a who?
A house, with
-too many bedrooms
-too many bathrooms
-underground tunnels that lead to dwarf mines
-the space for everyone I love to be under one roof
-basically the same layout as the Sim house I made with HW when I was actually shorter than I am now
-love
-lots of animals
I just want to have it all so I can give it away.
A barn
-to facilitate riding for every little girl who wants to ride a pony
-to provide a great place to run away and think when you need it
-to give others a place of healing
And I have children entrusted to me right now, and I feel that there are more coming into my life, and I want desperately to pass on this *thing* I have inside me that helps me believe that I am MORE than just the sum of my days, MORE than stardust in a skin suit, that I am capable of changing and shifting reality to suit what *must* happen.
But that? That sounds crazy.
...Dream big anyway, right?
I don't know where my dreams are leading. Things are so fantastically pleasant right now. I found a home. I am making it mine. I found Love. I found many, many loves. I found support and family. The best things in life are right here in front of me- so what am I working for?
I want to say something lofty, like "the future happiness of humanity."
You know what? I actually believe that I make the world a better place, even if it's just by THIS much. Even if, in all of the infinite-ness of space and time, the only amount of difference is the space between the T and the S in that word...it will have been worth it. Even if, at the end of Everything, my work and time and effort mean nothing, it's worth it. I have to answer to myself in my own mind at the end of the day.
Here's to signing my name at the end of each day, like a contract that I'm making with Time.
"Thank you for the minutes. This is what I've done with them." If only Time were not so fair. She gives the same time to everyone. No one has to deserve it or earn it. We all get the same deposit in our daily minute fund. I know some of my days, I felt I deserved overtime. Other days...I squandered the gift. I suppose it's best that She is fair...the same time to all.
Thankful that some days, I'm able to stretch out the minutes to include everything I need. Thankful that some days, the day goes by fast.
Wednesday, October 10, 2018
Just Write it Down
The chronicles of my life even from just my perspective are overwhelming at best.
I've seen myself through countless tragedies and victories.
And I've found another battle to fight.
You'd think, after years of therapy and counseling and working through my issues that I would have found them all. It feels like betrayal on a grand scale to have one jump up and bite my face now. And yet, a new trigger has been found.
It takes me back to something so entirely harmless that it ignites the fears and anxieties I developed over years of memory loss. If I remember this thing, this one random thing that seems to have no significance- a classroom from freshman year with desks designed for individual use, where the chairs and table bits are connected, a flash of a picture I drew and colored, and a moment of remembrance from the textbook I read for that class.
And whatever it is put me in a state for longer than I care to admit but here we are anyway.
I write it down. I survive and I write it down. I find solutions and I survive and I write it down.
I have built up a mentality of abundance and I will not let this stop me...but I am definitely bulking up my adventuring party. Who's gonna be my healer?
I've seen myself through countless tragedies and victories.
And I've found another battle to fight.
You'd think, after years of therapy and counseling and working through my issues that I would have found them all. It feels like betrayal on a grand scale to have one jump up and bite my face now. And yet, a new trigger has been found.
It takes me back to something so entirely harmless that it ignites the fears and anxieties I developed over years of memory loss. If I remember this thing, this one random thing that seems to have no significance- a classroom from freshman year with desks designed for individual use, where the chairs and table bits are connected, a flash of a picture I drew and colored, and a moment of remembrance from the textbook I read for that class.
And whatever it is put me in a state for longer than I care to admit but here we are anyway.
I write it down. I survive and I write it down. I find solutions and I survive and I write it down.
I have built up a mentality of abundance and I will not let this stop me...but I am definitely bulking up my adventuring party. Who's gonna be my healer?
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
Merry December
Last week was hard.
I had to re-evaluate so much of what I believed, both about myself and about the outside world. I don't like that what-so-ever.
So I write. I create. I dream and plan, and I envision the world as I want it to be, and then I figure out how to be the unicorn I want to see in the world.
I need to write more, so I'm challenging myself to at LEAST one blog post every week. Sometimes they'll be inspired. Often they won't be, but I told my students that writing every day is the ONLY way to get better at writing. I'm taking my own advice.
10 minute writing prompt (FULL DISCLOSURE: stolen from http://blog.ed.ted.com/2015/11/17/21-fun-things-to-write-about-in-10-minutes-or-less/)
Write the ad for an expensive new drug that improves bad posture. Now, list the possible side effects.
Response:
STRAYTERAN - the new posture aid that keeps improves your confidence, your health, and your interview prospects! Tests have shown a drastic increase in the oxygen flow through your body when you sit correctly, and you don't even have to be conscious of your body for it to work! Simply take one in the morning, and you're covered for all day!
Big presentation coming up at work? Don't stress- Strayteran is here for you! With a little chemical assistance, your posture will scream confidence! The alignment of your spine will also trigger all kinds of happy-making feelings in your brain as well, so you will not only appear more confident but you'll feel it too!
**(At this point in writing the ad, I realize that advertisements tend to have absolutely horrid sentence structure. I wonder what the research was that started all that, but not enough to look it up.)**
Side effects may include: dizziness, wheezing, loss of vision, severe brain trauma, calcified nodules in your left elbow, and death. Do not take Strayteran if you are pregnant or may become pregnant. Talk with your doctor about whether Strayteran is right for you!!
........
Well that was awful, but it's done.
I had to re-evaluate so much of what I believed, both about myself and about the outside world. I don't like that what-so-ever.
So I write. I create. I dream and plan, and I envision the world as I want it to be, and then I figure out how to be the unicorn I want to see in the world.
I need to write more, so I'm challenging myself to at LEAST one blog post every week. Sometimes they'll be inspired. Often they won't be, but I told my students that writing every day is the ONLY way to get better at writing. I'm taking my own advice.
10 minute writing prompt (FULL DISCLOSURE: stolen from http://blog.ed.ted.com/2015/11/17/21-fun-things-to-write-about-in-10-minutes-or-less/)
Write the ad for an expensive new drug that improves bad posture. Now, list the possible side effects.
Response:
STRAYTERAN - the new posture aid that keeps improves your confidence, your health, and your interview prospects! Tests have shown a drastic increase in the oxygen flow through your body when you sit correctly, and you don't even have to be conscious of your body for it to work! Simply take one in the morning, and you're covered for all day!
Big presentation coming up at work? Don't stress- Strayteran is here for you! With a little chemical assistance, your posture will scream confidence! The alignment of your spine will also trigger all kinds of happy-making feelings in your brain as well, so you will not only appear more confident but you'll feel it too!
**(At this point in writing the ad, I realize that advertisements tend to have absolutely horrid sentence structure. I wonder what the research was that started all that, but not enough to look it up.)**
Side effects may include: dizziness, wheezing, loss of vision, severe brain trauma, calcified nodules in your left elbow, and death. Do not take Strayteran if you are pregnant or may become pregnant. Talk with your doctor about whether Strayteran is right for you!!
........
Well that was awful, but it's done.
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Let me tell you about...
Let me tell you about
being Loved
about
how you get stronger
how you rise up
how you can do more
about
roses because you deserve them
notes because she knows you need them
kisses because he knows otherwise you will wake up worried that he's not there
about
feeling the chasm between you and adversity
feeding the dreams you never told anyone else
flying, untethered, to the heights that Icarus never dared...
and coming home to nest safely where they never clip your wings.
about
silence and quickened heartbeats right before you ask for what you want, knowing that all you need to do is ask and be brave and let the words fall out of your mouth and your requests will be met joyfully.
laughter and smiles and the way you look at me when I glow
stories I tell about fruit tarts being my favorite and how they magically appear in the fridge.
about
feeling heard
feeling seen
feeling loved
about
the moment she pops in your mind and all you can do is smile
the sound your phone makes when he sends you a message
the support so thick that it blocks out hardship
about
how you grow
how you stretch
how you can do anything
Let me tell you about the real deal love.
being Loved
about
how you get stronger
how you rise up
how you can do more
about
roses because you deserve them
notes because she knows you need them
kisses because he knows otherwise you will wake up worried that he's not there
about
feeling the chasm between you and adversity
feeding the dreams you never told anyone else
flying, untethered, to the heights that Icarus never dared...
and coming home to nest safely where they never clip your wings.
about
silence and quickened heartbeats right before you ask for what you want, knowing that all you need to do is ask and be brave and let the words fall out of your mouth and your requests will be met joyfully.
laughter and smiles and the way you look at me when I glow
stories I tell about fruit tarts being my favorite and how they magically appear in the fridge.
about
feeling heard
feeling seen
feeling loved
about
the moment she pops in your mind and all you can do is smile
the sound your phone makes when he sends you a message
the support so thick that it blocks out hardship
about
how you grow
how you stretch
how you can do anything
Let me tell you about the real deal love.
Thursday, April 20, 2017
Suffering
I would rather
hurt
than live without
understanding
Part of me wanted
-curious-
to know...
So I never
asked
for an end,
just wisdom
Even if it needed
payment in blood.
hurt
than live without
understanding
Part of me wanted
-curious-
to know...
So I never
asked
for an end,
just wisdom
Even if it needed
payment in blood.
Guilt
Lingering tendrils of "should"
Squeeze and release
Constrictor
But no life of its own
Feeds on inorganic matter
Unrequited apologies
Loss
Less choices...leftover choice
Powerless
Painted as something
Monstrous
Internalized judgement
You don't define me
My choices do
My words do
My actions
I'm here to take back
no
Here to re-create
no
Here to forge anew
My purpose
identity
self
Ready. Set. Forgive.
Squeeze and release
Constrictor
But no life of its own
Feeds on inorganic matter
Unrequited apologies
Loss
Less choices...leftover choice
Powerless
Painted as something
Monstrous
Internalized judgement
You don't define me
My choices do
My words do
My actions
I'm here to take back
no
Here to re-create
no
Here to forge anew
My purpose
identity
self
Ready. Set. Forgive.
10th
Never in a month of Sundays
Did I expect this
Wind
Shredding skin with tiny dirt bits
It pulls at my clothing,
Threatening to lift me or rend
Threads, leaving me exposed.
I
Feel
Naked. Vulnerable. Utterly at the mercy
Of sheer force.
Floored.
At one with all the
insignificant crawlers of the surface
Unity in anonymity
Unseen
Pure power. my laugh echoes
fundamental falsehood of safety
humanity clings to their sticks and stones
I fling open my arms to embrace the
Wildness
Ferocity
Unbridled passion
...and just me
Depending on the moving air
Breath of Life
Did I expect this
Wind
Shredding skin with tiny dirt bits
It pulls at my clothing,
Threatening to lift me or rend
Threads, leaving me exposed.
I
Feel
Naked. Vulnerable. Utterly at the mercy
Of sheer force.
Floored.
At one with all the
insignificant crawlers of the surface
Unity in anonymity
Unseen
Pure power. my laugh echoes
fundamental falsehood of safety
humanity clings to their sticks and stones
I fling open my arms to embrace the
Wildness
Ferocity
Unbridled passion
...and just me
Depending on the moving air
Breath of Life
Breath
Stress-ball to the left of me
Coke-head to the right
Her I am, stuck in the middle with you
Fog surrounds each smoker, wafting
Gently away
Hold
Lungs burn either way- ashes
Are lack of oxygen
Holding my breath
The same
But ashes rip-burn pockets of dystrophy in my lungs
Much more death-y than going without
life-atoms
completely
Oh the irony
Coke-head to the right
Her I am, stuck in the middle with you
Fog surrounds each smoker, wafting
Gently away
Hold
Lungs burn either way- ashes
Are lack of oxygen
Holding my breath
The same
But ashes rip-burn pockets of dystrophy in my lungs
Much more death-y than going without
life-atoms
completely
Oh the irony
Poem for the 5th
Four older siblings
One of the basic musical structures
A major key, usually paired with a minor fall
Beethoven had one
*****************
Yeah, this should probably be a riddle for Smaug or something like that. Remind me to be a better writer next time. *smirks*
One of the basic musical structures
A major key, usually paired with a minor fall
Beethoven had one
*****************
Yeah, this should probably be a riddle for Smaug or something like that. Remind me to be a better writer next time. *smirks*
April 4 (unfinished, because)
I wake up
One arm is freezing to touch
Goosebumps and approaching numb
The rest of my body
Radiates
I reach out to love you
Cold sheets.
Abscence
Heart drop
I have to move
To find you
And the covers & I...
were just getting close.
I move and the sheet slides
Yeeugggggh
Texture change
Smooth sheets to rough yarn
I pull my attention to my shoulders
where the fluffuzz caresses my body
One arm is freezing to touch
Goosebumps and approaching numb
The rest of my body
Radiates
I reach out to love you
Cold sheets.
Abscence
Heart drop
I have to move
To find you
And the covers & I...
were just getting close.
I move and the sheet slides
Yeeugggggh
Texture change
Smooth sheets to rough yarn
I pull my attention to my shoulders
where the fluffuzz caresses my body
April 3
First day
Cupcakes
Unicorn happiness
Rainbow sprinkles
Frosting sweet
Vanilla
Smile's infectious
Future plans
Teach
Purpose found
Awaiting connection
Pieces discovered
"Lookin' for a mind at work"
Communication medium
Social work
Wild horses
Options revealed
Joy grows
Anticipation
Cupcakes
Unicorn happiness
Rainbow sprinkles
Frosting sweet
Vanilla
Smile's infectious
Future plans
Teach
Purpose found
Awaiting connection
Pieces discovered
"Lookin' for a mind at work"
Communication medium
Social work
Wild horses
Options revealed
Joy grows
Anticipation
April Poem Dump!
A good friend of mine challenged her friends via Facebook to participate in April as national poetry month. Her call to action was a poem a day, and while I have not met that, I have certainly attempted.
Some of it's crap. Some of it is starting toward being decent. Other parts...eh. Probably should be poetry and would be better conveyed in prose.
And this is how I mark the change in my days. I make sure it's on the internet somewhere, because lurking fears that my mind will descend into the infinite fog of forgetting still linger.
Hey future self, if that shit happens again:
you can make it out. Take some L-methylfolate. Keep trying. Keep fighting. Some infinities are bigger than others, just like what's-his-jerkface told Hazel Grace. You got out before and you can do it again. This infinity will shrink, eventually, under the unending and overwhelming force of love. Other things will grow by comparison. Thriving happens again. Survival first. Make it out. Find a stick, or borrow one, or ask for one. Force the Universe to make a way out. Use the knife.* Accept help. Ask for what you need. Let people love you; let them love you let them love you let them love you. It's okay to need. It's okay to ask. It's okay to want and cry and be disappointed. It's okay to be numb and blunt and a little socially awkward while you get out of the dark. Never be cruel (and in case you forget, we stay away from those always-words, you and I).
My life has shifted radically in ways I did not predict (which, I suppose, is good). I never imagined this would be my life- writing on my blog while BurritoZor, Pocket, and Neyo watch closeby, Morgan and Jack watch faraway, and Fenrir sleeps on the couch, awaiting my invitation to actually go to bed; working at a "call center" with some surprisingly awesome people; collecting people to benefit the whole collection; and giving, finally having things to be giving, and feeling safe enough to simply give away.
*In retrospect, that sounds really dark. It's supposed to be a reference to Phillip Pullman's book "The Subtle Knife."
Some of it's crap. Some of it is starting toward being decent. Other parts...eh. Probably should be poetry and would be better conveyed in prose.
And this is how I mark the change in my days. I make sure it's on the internet somewhere, because lurking fears that my mind will descend into the infinite fog of forgetting still linger.
Hey future self, if that shit happens again:
you can make it out. Take some L-methylfolate. Keep trying. Keep fighting. Some infinities are bigger than others, just like what's-his-jerkface told Hazel Grace. You got out before and you can do it again. This infinity will shrink, eventually, under the unending and overwhelming force of love. Other things will grow by comparison. Thriving happens again. Survival first. Make it out. Find a stick, or borrow one, or ask for one. Force the Universe to make a way out. Use the knife.* Accept help. Ask for what you need. Let people love you; let them love you let them love you let them love you. It's okay to need. It's okay to ask. It's okay to want and cry and be disappointed. It's okay to be numb and blunt and a little socially awkward while you get out of the dark. Never be cruel (and in case you forget, we stay away from those always-words, you and I).
My life has shifted radically in ways I did not predict (which, I suppose, is good). I never imagined this would be my life- writing on my blog while BurritoZor, Pocket, and Neyo watch closeby, Morgan and Jack watch faraway, and Fenrir sleeps on the couch, awaiting my invitation to actually go to bed; working at a "call center" with some surprisingly awesome people; collecting people to benefit the whole collection; and giving, finally having things to be giving, and feeling safe enough to simply give away.
*In retrospect, that sounds really dark. It's supposed to be a reference to Phillip Pullman's book "The Subtle Knife."
The Wrong Two Words (*despairingly* unfinished)
So exciting
I would call finger-touches
Fire
but I have tasted flames
and it's different.
Same heat
ambient & intense
there is no burn
but still, danger
like standing on a hill,
head back & arms outspread,
as the storm sparks
Lightning
the only electricity
I like to hear
ripping the seams of
reality
in the ash-smudged sky
Maybe that's why
I don't like
the sound of the wand
It's so fake
it splits me up inside
my core is allergic to in-
Authenticity
but the reaction is worse
I would call finger-touches
Fire
but I have tasted flames
and it's different.
Same heat
ambient & intense
there is no burn
but still, danger
like standing on a hill,
head back & arms outspread,
as the storm sparks
Lightning
the only electricity
I like to hear
ripping the seams of
reality
in the ash-smudged sky
Maybe that's why
I don't like
the sound of the wand
It's so fake
it splits me up inside
my core is allergic to in-
Authenticity
but the reaction is worse
Poem for April 1
Dragging my feet
Brief dismay
My favorite celeb
died today
Then I remember-
how uncool-
Today's synonym is
April Fools
Brief dismay
My favorite celeb
died today
Then I remember-
how uncool-
Today's synonym is
April Fools
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Ghosts of Anguish
"Life ain't always what you think it ought to be- ain't even gray but she buries her baby.
The sharp knife of a short life..." ~The Band Perry, "If I Die Young"
Well, I've had just enough short lives. Living life, three months at a time or thereabouts. And that's all you've known of me, bodyHeadHeart. So when you accuse me of being a sparkle-chasing kitten with no concern for the hearts and feelings of others, I hear you. I...
My ability to take an outside perspective kills me tonight. The devil's advocate, they call it, and I wonder honestly just how much evil has to do with it.
You loved me, you said. I loved you. And when I loved you, I opened myself up for criticism, for critique. An honest look at an open heart, with the opportunity to reflect and review. I'm not perfect, and I know my weaknesses will continue to elude me unless I listen, sincerely, to perspectives outside of mine. I try to be picky about who gets to define me and my space; I let you in. I gave you a red pen, and said "Here...this is me."
And your words still hurt. Tonight they haunt me, teasing open the edges of wounds I thought had healed...is it all just a game, like you said? On to the next shiny thing, until it loses its new sparkles and I toss it aside as though it were nothing? Is that really what you saw me do to people? ...and you wanted to be with that person?
I remind myself that I'm different with words I stole from someone else. I did everything I could to change, three months, one season, at a time. I fought until I was exhausted, laid down and cried when I could go no further, slept when I could push no more...and I got up again. One season at a time, fight fight fight death respawn. Start again. No tools. No map. No indicator which game I got stuck in.
"All I wanna be is done." (And with that I had to stop the playlist in the background because my thoughts were careening about my mind too fast to put to paper. Thank you, country music and puzzle time for bringing me back.)
I fought so I could stop hurting people, the people I loved. I wanted to be a better person, a better me, so I was willing to hurt and die and face the awfulness and beat my demons (and other people's, as necessary) and Be Better. You saw me. You watched the fight and the aftermath and I know you saw me die at least once.
And yet you came at me like I carried ulterior, nefarious motives. Somewhere in your mind, no matter what I did, I was the bad guy. I was the one carrying around secret motives, using you for some twisted long-term goal. And that's part of why your all-access pass was revoked, changed to a more generally accessible part of my mind library. I needed to evaluate. To ensure. To protect. To maintain integrity and continuity.
And here my sadness and anger flash, because for all the care I took to be consistent and coherent and communicative I got chaos. I didn't know you were an emotion bomb waiting to explode. Let your emotions color your world, yes, but don't let them create it! ...but you did. And when you are angry, it becomes the lifeblood of your world.
And even though I don't want to, I must consider your words. All of them. I still evaluate myself based on criteria that is old and outdated. I will run updates eventually, and someday your measures will be so far down in the system that I won't hear them anymore.
But tonight I second-guess. Tonight I doubt me. Tonight I let your words out to play, to observe, to explore. Tonight for a few hours I hold myself accountable by your standards, all of them. One at a time, listing. I'm combing for my own standards in and among the muck and I will find them.
Finding them. Finding me. Looking, searching, defining...and living, finally, again.
More later. Loves.
The sharp knife of a short life..." ~The Band Perry, "If I Die Young"
Well, I've had just enough short lives. Living life, three months at a time or thereabouts. And that's all you've known of me, bodyHeadHeart. So when you accuse me of being a sparkle-chasing kitten with no concern for the hearts and feelings of others, I hear you. I...
My ability to take an outside perspective kills me tonight. The devil's advocate, they call it, and I wonder honestly just how much evil has to do with it.
You loved me, you said. I loved you. And when I loved you, I opened myself up for criticism, for critique. An honest look at an open heart, with the opportunity to reflect and review. I'm not perfect, and I know my weaknesses will continue to elude me unless I listen, sincerely, to perspectives outside of mine. I try to be picky about who gets to define me and my space; I let you in. I gave you a red pen, and said "Here...this is me."
And your words still hurt. Tonight they haunt me, teasing open the edges of wounds I thought had healed...is it all just a game, like you said? On to the next shiny thing, until it loses its new sparkles and I toss it aside as though it were nothing? Is that really what you saw me do to people? ...and you wanted to be with that person?
I remind myself that I'm different with words I stole from someone else. I did everything I could to change, three months, one season, at a time. I fought until I was exhausted, laid down and cried when I could go no further, slept when I could push no more...and I got up again. One season at a time, fight fight fight death respawn. Start again. No tools. No map. No indicator which game I got stuck in.
"All I wanna be is done." (And with that I had to stop the playlist in the background because my thoughts were careening about my mind too fast to put to paper. Thank you, country music and puzzle time for bringing me back.)
I fought so I could stop hurting people, the people I loved. I wanted to be a better person, a better me, so I was willing to hurt and die and face the awfulness and beat my demons (and other people's, as necessary) and Be Better. You saw me. You watched the fight and the aftermath and I know you saw me die at least once.
And yet you came at me like I carried ulterior, nefarious motives. Somewhere in your mind, no matter what I did, I was the bad guy. I was the one carrying around secret motives, using you for some twisted long-term goal. And that's part of why your all-access pass was revoked, changed to a more generally accessible part of my mind library. I needed to evaluate. To ensure. To protect. To maintain integrity and continuity.
And here my sadness and anger flash, because for all the care I took to be consistent and coherent and communicative I got chaos. I didn't know you were an emotion bomb waiting to explode. Let your emotions color your world, yes, but don't let them create it! ...but you did. And when you are angry, it becomes the lifeblood of your world.
And even though I don't want to, I must consider your words. All of them. I still evaluate myself based on criteria that is old and outdated. I will run updates eventually, and someday your measures will be so far down in the system that I won't hear them anymore.
But tonight I second-guess. Tonight I doubt me. Tonight I let your words out to play, to observe, to explore. Tonight for a few hours I hold myself accountable by your standards, all of them. One at a time, listing. I'm combing for my own standards in and among the muck and I will find them.
Finding them. Finding me. Looking, searching, defining...and living, finally, again.
More later. Loves.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Unexpected Song
"I have never felt like this
For once I'm lost for words
Your smile has really thrown me
This is not like me at all
I never thought I'd know
the kind of love you've shown me
Now, no matter where I am
No matter what I do
I see your face appearing...
like an unexpected song...
An unexpected song that only we are hearing.
I don't know what's going on
Can't work it out at all
Whatever made you choose me
I just can't believe my eyes
You look at me as though
You couldn't bear to lose me
Now, no matter where I am
No matter what I do
I see your face appearing...
like an unexpected song...
An unexpected song that only we are hearing."
(Third verse, same as the first)
Sung by Sarah Brightman, composed by Andrew Lloyd Weber, originally from Song and Dance
*I was swimming through the ocean, a mermaid unafraid of the depths, looking for heartsongs that meshed with mine.*
Still not quite right...
You were like sunrise, lighting up the night when I did not realize I had stayed awake so long. Beautiful, bringing color and warmth back into the world...something I expected sometime, but not so soon. And that was just the beginning.
*The next interaction, you presented with the utmost formality two skeins of heartstring, which you unwound and tied to me. I was unprepared for the class, the high level of professionalism. I accepted the gift, weaving a pattern into my ribcage as I did so. (That was the appropriate formality, no?) I didn't anticipate the heartstring, but I chalked it up to your nature and not our connection. I had no reason to believe the connection was any more than wishful thinking making a bridge, a plank if you will for my heart to venture out of its cage and out over the cavernous gap between us. You were too protected, too unresponsive to the tiny gem envoys I sent...they were accepted but none returned from you. And yet your words built support for the bridge. "Someday." And so I built, hoping that the someday would happen before I needed ths support from your cage to hold the bridge. Patience...I will wait.*
You courted my mind, parrying my witty and amusing remarks with unparalleled skill. It activated a part of my skillset I hadn't used in quite a long time...wordsmith extraordinaire. And you reveled in it. And I blossomed in ways I didn't even know I had forgotten.
*Someday came, but it was not a day of rejoicing for you. A previous bridge had burned, leaving only tender, smoking remnants of the connection that was. I offered salve, ice, my own heartstring for repair, and instead of treating your wounds, you opened yourself to me. "Let it hurt." And you embraced me, revealing your half of the bridge that had grown inside the confines of your bound heart. You and I both knew the risk. You were leaving, and the bridge would be stretched beyond what even bridges with substantial timeStrength were designed to withstand. I honored your bravery and allowed the regrowth of my heart to focus on fortifying that bridge.*
My heart and mind were alight. Despite the hindered growth of our connection, I had made space for We. And I cherished the moments marked by your words.
*Heart pieces floated the hundreds of miles to find their way to you, and me, and some traversed the distance more than once. As I acquired more and more heartflesh branded by the pure expression of investment, the bridge grew stronger. With its strength it could support more heart traffic...and it lost its newness and with it, flexibility. The distance made the stretch ache, and I longed for the day when the ache would subside.*
You are so worth every minute of the distance, the ache, and the strain. You have made a space for my heart, my mind, and my body. I had no idea you would grow into my life in such a beautiful and sudden way. I wasn't looking for you, for anything. You're like the orange roses I received in early 2008, for no apparent reason and from nowhere. No pretense, no ulterior motive- just something that adds beauty. Asks nothing of me. Sparks smiles.
For once I'm lost for words
Your smile has really thrown me
This is not like me at all
I never thought I'd know
the kind of love you've shown me
Now, no matter where I am
No matter what I do
I see your face appearing...
like an unexpected song...
An unexpected song that only we are hearing.
I don't know what's going on
Can't work it out at all
Whatever made you choose me
I just can't believe my eyes
You look at me as though
You couldn't bear to lose me
Now, no matter where I am
No matter what I do
I see your face appearing...
like an unexpected song...
An unexpected song that only we are hearing."
(Third verse, same as the first)
Sung by Sarah Brightman, composed by Andrew Lloyd Weber, originally from Song and Dance
*I was swimming through the ocean, a mermaid unafraid of the depths, looking for heartsongs that meshed with mine.*
Still not quite right...
I keep writing and re-writing my feelings out, trying to capture the wonder that comes from finding you without looking for you.
"Long is destiny's route when we must walk on our hearts."
That's beautiful.
I'll take the long path...it is the road less traveled, the "scenic route," (which is just code for significantly-less-appreciated in a world where instant gratification delayed one iota spurns road rage). It builds yearning, a feeling that endures and strengthens our heartstrings as we suspend life and limb from them.
I will be patient. I will wait for you. I will channel the waiting into creative force. I want to turn that "walking on our hearts" metaphor into something beautiful with my words, clumsy though English may be.
*I met you, and a hopeful piece of my heart dropped from my ribcage. I quickly picked it up, hoping no one would notice my neglect. The scandal of letting heart pieces skitter about as though they were free agents is strictly against the Code. You, with someone fantastic already, had found a duet partner and my quivering heart piece was soothed by the illusion that someone already harmonized with your heartsong. I checked and checked again to see if your connection-seeking module was turned on, an indicator of willingness to expand. Nothing came up. The still-beating bit of heart dropped to a murmur and floated back up to orbit the heart itself, which was already growing back the part it had lost in that moment of sheer ...something. Attraction? No, something with more kairos than that...*
I envision a steampunk fantasy world in which hearts are given and received, one where unrequited emotions orbit around the heartflesh in your ribcage, which is much more like a literal metal cage. Everyone is part machine, so it's the norm...but to truly build and explore that world will take a novel. I might do that, for you.
*Imagine my surprise when I saw you again, and my little murmuring gem, whose light had dwindled to but an ember, lit up again. Your words engrave themselves in the gem, microscopically magnetizing it to you. Someone with standards, then, and someone who would say yes to a proposition not just to make me happy...but because they also wanted to pursue that end. I allow the floating flame to present itself to you, vulnerable away from the sustaining light and heat of my heart. To my delight, you reached out and accepted the gem. Suddenly, fear clouds formed in my chest cavity. To whom had I just given a gem? What sort of conniving, devlisih Casanova had I fallen for now?*
I envision a steampunk fantasy world in which hearts are given and received, one where unrequited emotions orbit around the heartflesh in your ribcage, which is much more like a literal metal cage. Everyone is part machine, so it's the norm...but to truly build and explore that world will take a novel. I might do that, for you.
*Imagine my surprise when I saw you again, and my little murmuring gem, whose light had dwindled to but an ember, lit up again. Your words engrave themselves in the gem, microscopically magnetizing it to you. Someone with standards, then, and someone who would say yes to a proposition not just to make me happy...but because they also wanted to pursue that end. I allow the floating flame to present itself to you, vulnerable away from the sustaining light and heat of my heart. To my delight, you reached out and accepted the gem. Suddenly, fear clouds formed in my chest cavity. To whom had I just given a gem? What sort of conniving, devlisih Casanova had I fallen for now?*
You were like sunrise, lighting up the night when I did not realize I had stayed awake so long. Beautiful, bringing color and warmth back into the world...something I expected sometime, but not so soon. And that was just the beginning.
*The next interaction, you presented with the utmost formality two skeins of heartstring, which you unwound and tied to me. I was unprepared for the class, the high level of professionalism. I accepted the gift, weaving a pattern into my ribcage as I did so. (That was the appropriate formality, no?) I didn't anticipate the heartstring, but I chalked it up to your nature and not our connection. I had no reason to believe the connection was any more than wishful thinking making a bridge, a plank if you will for my heart to venture out of its cage and out over the cavernous gap between us. You were too protected, too unresponsive to the tiny gem envoys I sent...they were accepted but none returned from you. And yet your words built support for the bridge. "Someday." And so I built, hoping that the someday would happen before I needed ths support from your cage to hold the bridge. Patience...I will wait.*
You courted my mind, parrying my witty and amusing remarks with unparalleled skill. It activated a part of my skillset I hadn't used in quite a long time...wordsmith extraordinaire. And you reveled in it. And I blossomed in ways I didn't even know I had forgotten.
*Someday came, but it was not a day of rejoicing for you. A previous bridge had burned, leaving only tender, smoking remnants of the connection that was. I offered salve, ice, my own heartstring for repair, and instead of treating your wounds, you opened yourself to me. "Let it hurt." And you embraced me, revealing your half of the bridge that had grown inside the confines of your bound heart. You and I both knew the risk. You were leaving, and the bridge would be stretched beyond what even bridges with substantial timeStrength were designed to withstand. I honored your bravery and allowed the regrowth of my heart to focus on fortifying that bridge.*
My heart and mind were alight. Despite the hindered growth of our connection, I had made space for We. And I cherished the moments marked by your words.
*Heart pieces floated the hundreds of miles to find their way to you, and me, and some traversed the distance more than once. As I acquired more and more heartflesh branded by the pure expression of investment, the bridge grew stronger. With its strength it could support more heart traffic...and it lost its newness and with it, flexibility. The distance made the stretch ache, and I longed for the day when the ache would subside.*
You are so worth every minute of the distance, the ache, and the strain. You have made a space for my heart, my mind, and my body. I had no idea you would grow into my life in such a beautiful and sudden way. I wasn't looking for you, for anything. You're like the orange roses I received in early 2008, for no apparent reason and from nowhere. No pretense, no ulterior motive- just something that adds beauty. Asks nothing of me. Sparks smiles.
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Polyphasic Sleeping Day 1
I've decided to try polyphasic sleeping, bcause I've wanted to do that for EVER and my schedule finally allows for it. Also because I want to hone my writing skills, music talent, and I want to complete a personal project or two this year.
To start off, I'll be using the Everyman sleep schedule. It's a nice transition from monophasic sleep into polyphasic sleep. Standard sleep times: 1-4am, 9-9:20am, 2-2:20pm, and 9-9:20pm. I suspect that I'll end up extending those naps to 30 minutes since I've previously enjoyed naps of around that length.
Today I woke up a little earlier than normal to start getting into the groove of polyphasic sleeping. The plan was to go to sleep around 1am and wake up at 4am. I realized immediately my mistake in not having something immediately planned to do at 4am and fluttered in and out of sleep until about 6am, when my husband's alarm went off.
I got instantly engaged in facebook debates about radiation and cellphones, and took my planned "nap" from 9am-9:20 (there was lots of good meditation time and deep breathing, but no sleep). I skipped the middle nap so that I'd be tired enough for the last nap. Last nap extended to 9:30 because I was just drifting off at 9:20. Hard to tell if I slept during that last one, but here goes the adventure!
To start off, I'll be using the Everyman sleep schedule. It's a nice transition from monophasic sleep into polyphasic sleep. Standard sleep times: 1-4am, 9-9:20am, 2-2:20pm, and 9-9:20pm. I suspect that I'll end up extending those naps to 30 minutes since I've previously enjoyed naps of around that length.
Today I woke up a little earlier than normal to start getting into the groove of polyphasic sleeping. The plan was to go to sleep around 1am and wake up at 4am. I realized immediately my mistake in not having something immediately planned to do at 4am and fluttered in and out of sleep until about 6am, when my husband's alarm went off.
I got instantly engaged in facebook debates about radiation and cellphones, and took my planned "nap" from 9am-9:20 (there was lots of good meditation time and deep breathing, but no sleep). I skipped the middle nap so that I'd be tired enough for the last nap. Last nap extended to 9:30 because I was just drifting off at 9:20. Hard to tell if I slept during that last one, but here goes the adventure!
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Considering Gravity
I'm in a course about Gravity.
I've been learning about how gravity and acceleration find themselves brothers according to the theory of general relativity. Einstein is a clever kid, no doubt, but I think he's missing something. There are a few more sessions left before the end of the class, so we shall see if my hunch leads anywhere.
How is gravity different than acceleration? I don't know. But I think I might find one out.
This is the part where I was a genius, and then I had holes in my brain. I'll explain that soon, I promise...and now I'm re-finding that genius, that spark!
I'm coming back. From the worse-than-dead. Here we go, scuba.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)