State of the Union (of Dowe)
It's 2013. Six hours until the Dawn of the Third Day.
I'm unchanged. My depressive cycles gave me an excellent New Year's eve attitude; I felt so wonderful. I didn't get as drunk as I wanted. And then when I was drunk and stoned, I felt terrible for sleeping on Valary and Heather's couch. I went down a little spiral then. When I woke up I saw the carnage of the party and felt solely responsible for it's clean up, and felt bad about that, until I got home and showered and slept again before work. Then it's mildly bugged me but they haven't said anything negative to me about it.
I thought about making a resolution. I thought great thoughts into my champagne before I drank it; thoughts only of love and of meeting that love. I thought them as those people did with water, in an effort to make the champagne empowered by happiness, and to produce fine snow flakes. It did the night after. I dreamt of a long-haired, curly-headed blond boy whom I tried to connect with on several occasions. In the dream he loved me deeply, and in each instance I was telling myself he was the one, but every time something would hamper our relationship, so I would have to convince myself again, just like the first time, that he was the one. He always felt that love for me, though. I felt it the first time, but in the other dreams I had to tell myself again and again that it was true love I felt. It's probably telling me about my feelings for Dustin, of that fatedness and feeling of "Love at first sight" that drew me to him... I mean, I feel like I must recreate it every time. I loved him once...and I Loved him so much then. Will I again?
Would I, or...could I, without being drunk?
*takes huge chug of Steel Reserve*
could I love Dustin without alcohol? I really fuckin' hope so. I think about him rather damned often, more sober than not.
beer makes me so cold.
So what else am I feeling at this juncture? Am I happy, or am I sad? Have recent events made me inclined, one way or the other?
I'm still not convinced I should get in shape or become healthier. Most of all, I don't care if I stop drinking or smoking. I have no reason not to.
I did have a series of premonition-like dreams on New year's eve, most of which involved training people for my future coffee shop (I'm now a supervisor at Starbucks after only 7 months), Wes' fate without me in his life (which is now, and his fate that is wrought from my choices) and of a mob-boss overtaking America. I can't remember how that's relevant. Oh, well...the blonde guy. My soul mate. I dreamt of him often. Whether or not I find him will decide my fate. I'd change for a child with Heather and Valary Bobb; I'd change for a man that inspired my creativity, and my love. I'd not change for anyone else, and I will not. Never, I fear. If I am to be alone, then it is deserved. I shall be a drunken hermit in the woods, who makes love to trees and wishes himself the very essence of the Earth. My children will be wolves, and fallen leaves. My tears the rivers that flow down my mountain-side cheeks. My desire the seeds that are injested and shat out by other creatures, only to grow as trees, adequately fertilized I am a lonely mountain myth, waiting for a tribe that believes enough in me to migrate onto my soil, and finds me worthy to house and care for their ancestors. I am a lonely mountain.
I see mountains having souls.
But I don't see them having love.
So my legacy must be the dirt from which I am made. It must be able to hold tall pines on my harsh mountain-side. It must be conducive with nature, allowing for the cycles of water to permeate and refresh it. It must be taken care of. If people will not share my land with me, then the sky, and the water, and the sun must be my companions, and with them, I will live. I will live, perpetually, and yet alone.
But I cannot live alone.
I am not a mountain.
I am just...a drunken, unmotivated fool.
I'm unchanged. My depressive cycles gave me an excellent New Year's eve attitude; I felt so wonderful. I didn't get as drunk as I wanted. And then when I was drunk and stoned, I felt terrible for sleeping on Valary and Heather's couch. I went down a little spiral then. When I woke up I saw the carnage of the party and felt solely responsible for it's clean up, and felt bad about that, until I got home and showered and slept again before work. Then it's mildly bugged me but they haven't said anything negative to me about it.
I thought about making a resolution. I thought great thoughts into my champagne before I drank it; thoughts only of love and of meeting that love. I thought them as those people did with water, in an effort to make the champagne empowered by happiness, and to produce fine snow flakes. It did the night after. I dreamt of a long-haired, curly-headed blond boy whom I tried to connect with on several occasions. In the dream he loved me deeply, and in each instance I was telling myself he was the one, but every time something would hamper our relationship, so I would have to convince myself again, just like the first time, that he was the one. He always felt that love for me, though. I felt it the first time, but in the other dreams I had to tell myself again and again that it was true love I felt. It's probably telling me about my feelings for Dustin, of that fatedness and feeling of "Love at first sight" that drew me to him... I mean, I feel like I must recreate it every time. I loved him once...and I Loved him so much then. Will I again?
Would I, or...could I, without being drunk?
*takes huge chug of Steel Reserve*
could I love Dustin without alcohol? I really fuckin' hope so. I think about him rather damned often, more sober than not.
beer makes me so cold.
So what else am I feeling at this juncture? Am I happy, or am I sad? Have recent events made me inclined, one way or the other?
I'm still not convinced I should get in shape or become healthier. Most of all, I don't care if I stop drinking or smoking. I have no reason not to.
I did have a series of premonition-like dreams on New year's eve, most of which involved training people for my future coffee shop (I'm now a supervisor at Starbucks after only 7 months), Wes' fate without me in his life (which is now, and his fate that is wrought from my choices) and of a mob-boss overtaking America. I can't remember how that's relevant. Oh, well...the blonde guy. My soul mate. I dreamt of him often. Whether or not I find him will decide my fate. I'd change for a child with Heather and Valary Bobb; I'd change for a man that inspired my creativity, and my love. I'd not change for anyone else, and I will not. Never, I fear. If I am to be alone, then it is deserved. I shall be a drunken hermit in the woods, who makes love to trees and wishes himself the very essence of the Earth. My children will be wolves, and fallen leaves. My tears the rivers that flow down my mountain-side cheeks. My desire the seeds that are injested and shat out by other creatures, only to grow as trees, adequately fertilized I am a lonely mountain myth, waiting for a tribe that believes enough in me to migrate onto my soil, and finds me worthy to house and care for their ancestors. I am a lonely mountain.
I see mountains having souls.
But I don't see them having love.
So my legacy must be the dirt from which I am made. It must be able to hold tall pines on my harsh mountain-side. It must be conducive with nature, allowing for the cycles of water to permeate and refresh it. It must be taken care of. If people will not share my land with me, then the sky, and the water, and the sun must be my companions, and with them, I will live. I will live, perpetually, and yet alone.
But I cannot live alone.
I am not a mountain.
I am just...a drunken, unmotivated fool.