chip caldwell's cheeto puff graveyard
I'm starting this knowing it will take roughly four hours to finish it, and I had planned to go to bed early so I can get up at the kind of hour most of the humans I know get up before
but I realized the last time I updated this was at the beginning of my second real relationship and now that has deteriorated so it's time to do it again.
the beginning of my second relationship was also the last time I went to yoga or did anything for myself really and now I'm back from yoga because my second relationship has deteriorated and I am trying to appease this rumbling floodgate behind my eyes and an overwhelming urge to vomit because I have SO MUCH TO DO. for me, not you, god damnit.
I have listened to the yoga instructor for maybe the second time ever and I am starting to wake up.
i am starting to understand exactly why I need to do yoga. I can make my body suffer from years of neglect because I can't make my head do what I want it to do. I can hold a position that makes me feel like every bone in my body is breaking because I can't just walk away from people I'm done with. when I know how to make myself stick to something that hurts and hurts and hurts again until it doesn't is when I'm going to move forward and towards this person I haven't even begun to design but I know she is there somewhere waiting somewhat impatiently.
when I got out of the bathtub i looked at myself straight in the eyes in the bathroom mirror until they were all I could see. the rest of my face became a pure void of whiteness. and then it slowly changed into a perfect white pyramid with eyes at the top and I suddenly didn't seem real at all and I freaked out and averted my eyes. I snapped right back and focused again and again but every time I channeled into mystery triangle Hannah it was almost a reflex to avert my eyes.
I suddenly understand this means a lot. I have been clicking my fingernails through every tedious conversation about religion, shelling out bushels of criticism to the people I know who are on some sort of spiritual journey. I know who seems ridiculous to me, but I don't know if I am ridiculous to them, they seem cliche and dead-ended but SOMETHING NEEDS TO CHANGE and it needs to change immediately
I don't have any solutions right now, I have simply recognized, and admitted in the last few weeks that I am not the person I want to be, nor the person people think I am, nor the person I think I am.
I am supporting 22 years worth of terrified, unIMAGINABLY tense muscles. small tasks make me anxious. I don't know how to meet any expectations. I don't know how to tell people fuck you when they make me feel bad about myself or my choices and interests as a human being.
I had a dream that started in the middle of Piedmont's auditorium, I was supposed to be directing a play and all around me people looked at me with expectation. I had successfully geared my actors in the direction that was about to make this play performable, but I had forgotten one key thing. I was supposed to act in this play too. my part was the part of a preacher (the play was Dark of the Moon, which I did in 8th grade) And I didn't know a single line. The curtain opened and I made up some bullshit introductory line and ran to the back of the stage where there was Chip Caldwell's secret "junk room" filled with butter softened paperback scripts in all these different cabinets. I rummaged desperately trying to find the play so I could at least glance at my lines. And the actors' voices grew silent. I knew they were waiting for my line and that the continuation of this play depended on ME. but I didn't go onstage. Suddenly Caldwell walked in and handed me a copy of Eleemosynary, a play about 3 generations of women (grandmother, mother, daughter) and told me in words that I can't remember how disappointed he was in me and my complete waste of potential and then in words I can remember told me I needed to lose a few pounds. when I walked out of the auditorium and into a hallway all the actors were either dismantling or building a new set. this set was a graveyard made out of Cheeto Puffs and painted dismal grays and black.
and I woke up and made a vow to change my fucking life.
but I realized the last time I updated this was at the beginning of my second real relationship and now that has deteriorated so it's time to do it again.
the beginning of my second relationship was also the last time I went to yoga or did anything for myself really and now I'm back from yoga because my second relationship has deteriorated and I am trying to appease this rumbling floodgate behind my eyes and an overwhelming urge to vomit because I have SO MUCH TO DO. for me, not you, god damnit.
I have listened to the yoga instructor for maybe the second time ever and I am starting to wake up.
i am starting to understand exactly why I need to do yoga. I can make my body suffer from years of neglect because I can't make my head do what I want it to do. I can hold a position that makes me feel like every bone in my body is breaking because I can't just walk away from people I'm done with. when I know how to make myself stick to something that hurts and hurts and hurts again until it doesn't is when I'm going to move forward and towards this person I haven't even begun to design but I know she is there somewhere waiting somewhat impatiently.
when I got out of the bathtub i looked at myself straight in the eyes in the bathroom mirror until they were all I could see. the rest of my face became a pure void of whiteness. and then it slowly changed into a perfect white pyramid with eyes at the top and I suddenly didn't seem real at all and I freaked out and averted my eyes. I snapped right back and focused again and again but every time I channeled into mystery triangle Hannah it was almost a reflex to avert my eyes.
I suddenly understand this means a lot. I have been clicking my fingernails through every tedious conversation about religion, shelling out bushels of criticism to the people I know who are on some sort of spiritual journey. I know who seems ridiculous to me, but I don't know if I am ridiculous to them, they seem cliche and dead-ended but SOMETHING NEEDS TO CHANGE and it needs to change immediately
I don't have any solutions right now, I have simply recognized, and admitted in the last few weeks that I am not the person I want to be, nor the person people think I am, nor the person I think I am.
I am supporting 22 years worth of terrified, unIMAGINABLY tense muscles. small tasks make me anxious. I don't know how to meet any expectations. I don't know how to tell people fuck you when they make me feel bad about myself or my choices and interests as a human being.
I had a dream that started in the middle of Piedmont's auditorium, I was supposed to be directing a play and all around me people looked at me with expectation. I had successfully geared my actors in the direction that was about to make this play performable, but I had forgotten one key thing. I was supposed to act in this play too. my part was the part of a preacher (the play was Dark of the Moon, which I did in 8th grade) And I didn't know a single line. The curtain opened and I made up some bullshit introductory line and ran to the back of the stage where there was Chip Caldwell's secret "junk room" filled with butter softened paperback scripts in all these different cabinets. I rummaged desperately trying to find the play so I could at least glance at my lines. And the actors' voices grew silent. I knew they were waiting for my line and that the continuation of this play depended on ME. but I didn't go onstage. Suddenly Caldwell walked in and handed me a copy of Eleemosynary, a play about 3 generations of women (grandmother, mother, daughter) and told me in words that I can't remember how disappointed he was in me and my complete waste of potential and then in words I can remember told me I needed to lose a few pounds. when I walked out of the auditorium and into a hallway all the actors were either dismantling or building a new set. this set was a graveyard made out of Cheeto Puffs and painted dismal grays and black.
and I woke up and made a vow to change my fucking life.