My gypsy heart
This will be messy, unorganized, irresponsible, immature and possibly ill-spelled.
Everything is held together by these tiny little bits of thread, and usually it looks like it's all okay but I have to keep tugging at everything to keep it in place while gravity does its work, and really all thread is is little tiny bits of thinner strings twisted together, strings that are made of nothing but even tinier, thinner bits of string, and on inward until all you have is nothing, really. There's so much to be done. Ink the cartoon sleep eight hours look for apartments buff the muffin scan the painting feed the cat vacuum the floors call dad back go to work go to the dentist get a CAT scan learn to ride scooter illustrate the book. Where does anyone ever get clean clothes? I think they magically appear in my closet because I certainly don't wash them.
I'm tricking myself into chasing intangible things while I should be getting my tangibles in order. I'm impatient, not controlling my temper but not saying what I want to say when I want to say it like today on the bus that idiot guy sitting in front of me and spitting, actually spitting on the bus floor, like it's the ground, like he can just spit on stuff where people are going to have to walk or sit down and he was doing it the whole bus ride but my crippling fear of confrontation kept me from telling him off, no matter how I wanted to.
I was so mad that I pulled out a Buddhist learning book to try to get my temper under control but the first thing it said was to accept yourself exactly how you are, that it's wrong to turn to Buddhism to try and become a better person so I put the book down. Who doesn't want to become a better person? I can't love and accept that I'm ignoring shit that makes me mad and yet getting impatient with almost all my customers and if I can't help me and Buddhism can't help me, should I just stay this way even if it pisses me off?
But why am I even worrying about myself when not a day goes by that I don't have a new thing to worry about that has nothing to do with me? Mom gets sick and I have to list her symptoms over the phone while my father listens and rules out a stroke but advises me to dial an ambulance if it gets worse. I have to be out of my apartment by the end of August which is no time at all but how am I supposed to find an apartment when my two hands can't even find my ass? I have to finish the website, learn to update, print up a book, make more money, peddle to syndicates, get rich to finance the treehouse I want to build and the eight children I want to have.
The brother of this guy I used to write about a lot came in the store, and he remembered by name even though I never told him what it was, and he looks just like his brother only he smiles more so I was thinking of asking what went wrong with his brother and who he really is deep down and why doesn't he have any friends and is he doing okay these days and why hasn't he been to see me and why the last time he came in was he so cold to me, not smiling or looking at me or talking to me? But I didn't bother because those are the questions I always have about that boy's brother, along with why he seemed to like and hate and like and hate me so much more than the others. In the vein of boys I'm living down there's another who I thought I might check up on just now, before I wrote this, but I had to physically propel myself away from the computer to avoid doing so because that's how it starts, I wonder how he is, I'll just check, and then ten minutes later you're obsessing and feeling like you want to hurl in your commode and then hurl yourself off a cliff. I'm so much happier when I don't think about them, which is almost all the time, and each time I start, I remind myself that I don't want to get steamrolled again.
The Boyfriend is temporarily living back at his old place with his roommates instead of with me so he can be closer to work and though he promises it's not because he wants to be away from me I'm still alone more and I used to be just fine with being alone now I want him around all the time but I couldn't really say why other than that he makes me comfortable, but what if it's not working out and he's ready to walk? That ridiculously handsome boy was back in the store with that lingering ice blue eye contact and it makes me so UNcomfortable but I still like it but there's no way I'd even be attracted to someone so handsome because I always make myself look like an asshole when I see him and with the Boyfriend I'm always safe and pretty and healthy and happy right in my own skin.
I finished my fairytale, the first draft anyway, and I can't show it to anyone before my sister sees it so she can tell me whether or not its crap and there's another impediment to my personal growth, that need to be validated by other people. My fantasy used to be to run off to New Zealand where no one knew me and start over and in doing so be perfectly independent and learn to be with just myself and to take care of myself but I can't even remember my own social security number, I can't fill out a tax form, I can't ride a scooter to get from place to place nor even translate the crazy bus schedule I should be using, and I need a big sister and a boyfriend and a mom and a dad to all read over my fairytale before I know if it's good or not. This fact just makes me want to go away even more, to suddenly move and tell them all after I get there and spend a year or so all on my own, taking care of myself, but though I tell myself it's because I'm not brave enough to do it I know it's really because deep down I don't want to at all, I enjoy depending on other people even though I get disappointed a lot, more than I ever tell them, the fact that I can still depend on them after that may be some convoluted form of bravery. Or stupidity.
What can I do but sort through whatever I can, piece by piece, whether or not I'm heading for disaster?
This was a big fat load of confession. I don't know if it really helped, but if you actually read all that, you've got a strong constitution. And you probably know more about me than I do.
Everything is held together by these tiny little bits of thread, and usually it looks like it's all okay but I have to keep tugging at everything to keep it in place while gravity does its work, and really all thread is is little tiny bits of thinner strings twisted together, strings that are made of nothing but even tinier, thinner bits of string, and on inward until all you have is nothing, really. There's so much to be done. Ink the cartoon sleep eight hours look for apartments buff the muffin scan the painting feed the cat vacuum the floors call dad back go to work go to the dentist get a CAT scan learn to ride scooter illustrate the book. Where does anyone ever get clean clothes? I think they magically appear in my closet because I certainly don't wash them.
I'm tricking myself into chasing intangible things while I should be getting my tangibles in order. I'm impatient, not controlling my temper but not saying what I want to say when I want to say it like today on the bus that idiot guy sitting in front of me and spitting, actually spitting on the bus floor, like it's the ground, like he can just spit on stuff where people are going to have to walk or sit down and he was doing it the whole bus ride but my crippling fear of confrontation kept me from telling him off, no matter how I wanted to.
I was so mad that I pulled out a Buddhist learning book to try to get my temper under control but the first thing it said was to accept yourself exactly how you are, that it's wrong to turn to Buddhism to try and become a better person so I put the book down. Who doesn't want to become a better person? I can't love and accept that I'm ignoring shit that makes me mad and yet getting impatient with almost all my customers and if I can't help me and Buddhism can't help me, should I just stay this way even if it pisses me off?
But why am I even worrying about myself when not a day goes by that I don't have a new thing to worry about that has nothing to do with me? Mom gets sick and I have to list her symptoms over the phone while my father listens and rules out a stroke but advises me to dial an ambulance if it gets worse. I have to be out of my apartment by the end of August which is no time at all but how am I supposed to find an apartment when my two hands can't even find my ass? I have to finish the website, learn to update, print up a book, make more money, peddle to syndicates, get rich to finance the treehouse I want to build and the eight children I want to have.
The brother of this guy I used to write about a lot came in the store, and he remembered by name even though I never told him what it was, and he looks just like his brother only he smiles more so I was thinking of asking what went wrong with his brother and who he really is deep down and why doesn't he have any friends and is he doing okay these days and why hasn't he been to see me and why the last time he came in was he so cold to me, not smiling or looking at me or talking to me? But I didn't bother because those are the questions I always have about that boy's brother, along with why he seemed to like and hate and like and hate me so much more than the others. In the vein of boys I'm living down there's another who I thought I might check up on just now, before I wrote this, but I had to physically propel myself away from the computer to avoid doing so because that's how it starts, I wonder how he is, I'll just check, and then ten minutes later you're obsessing and feeling like you want to hurl in your commode and then hurl yourself off a cliff. I'm so much happier when I don't think about them, which is almost all the time, and each time I start, I remind myself that I don't want to get steamrolled again.
The Boyfriend is temporarily living back at his old place with his roommates instead of with me so he can be closer to work and though he promises it's not because he wants to be away from me I'm still alone more and I used to be just fine with being alone now I want him around all the time but I couldn't really say why other than that he makes me comfortable, but what if it's not working out and he's ready to walk? That ridiculously handsome boy was back in the store with that lingering ice blue eye contact and it makes me so UNcomfortable but I still like it but there's no way I'd even be attracted to someone so handsome because I always make myself look like an asshole when I see him and with the Boyfriend I'm always safe and pretty and healthy and happy right in my own skin.
I finished my fairytale, the first draft anyway, and I can't show it to anyone before my sister sees it so she can tell me whether or not its crap and there's another impediment to my personal growth, that need to be validated by other people. My fantasy used to be to run off to New Zealand where no one knew me and start over and in doing so be perfectly independent and learn to be with just myself and to take care of myself but I can't even remember my own social security number, I can't fill out a tax form, I can't ride a scooter to get from place to place nor even translate the crazy bus schedule I should be using, and I need a big sister and a boyfriend and a mom and a dad to all read over my fairytale before I know if it's good or not. This fact just makes me want to go away even more, to suddenly move and tell them all after I get there and spend a year or so all on my own, taking care of myself, but though I tell myself it's because I'm not brave enough to do it I know it's really because deep down I don't want to at all, I enjoy depending on other people even though I get disappointed a lot, more than I ever tell them, the fact that I can still depend on them after that may be some convoluted form of bravery. Or stupidity.
What can I do but sort through whatever I can, piece by piece, whether or not I'm heading for disaster?
This was a big fat load of confession. I don't know if it really helped, but if you actually read all that, you've got a strong constitution. And you probably know more about me than I do.