Stop Raining On My Parade
I mean, seriously, you should see this rain. It’s drilling HOLES in my DRIVEWAY. My tough as shit bull terrier is WHIMPERING at the back door.
I hate winter. I know it’s necessary, and I’m completely down with the five elementals and the equinoxes and the solstices and what-not. I’m not calling for an EMBARGO on the whole season or anything, but I don’t have to like it, ALRIGHT?
Yesterday was my first day off in seventeen days. And I almost drove myself freaking NUTS. I need to get out of this goddamn house but it’s like James Cameron has directed and funded this deluge. I‘m climbing the walls here. I cannot sustain this level of MOPE another fucking minute.
I’ve raped and pillaged every foil covered chocolately thing in my house. Mauled three different flavors of dairy-free icecream. Inhaled a pack of gummies. Devoured half a pack of prunes. Jesus H Christ, why did I do that???? You see, this is exactly why people have partners, and roommates and families. So there’s someone around to say For the love of Pete, woman, put the freaking prune bag down before you kill us all.
I’m disturbingly, disconcertingly out of sorts. And I know why. I know it’s been seventeen days of hard slog at work, and for seventeen days I’ve been needed, relied upon, turned to and actively sought out. And I’m sick of it.
My mobile phone was still ringing off the hook yesterday. On my RDO. It rang like, a million times. Okay. Seven or eight. But the point is this: I couldn’t answer it. I looked at the caller ID every time and decided either I don’t know who you are, and therefore cannot determine if I wish to speak to you, or I know who you are, and I do not wish to speak to you, or I know who you are, and I really want to speak to you, but my speaky thing is busted up like you would NOT BELIEVE. So I can’t talk right now. Maybe not ever again.
I am feeling absolutely HARANGUED. And caged. I'm a solitary dragon. I know this about myself. I don't deal well with feeling or being confined.
I’m stuck here. And it’s STILL fucking raining. *climbs walls some more*
Solving Me
lying in bed that night when all I had was the darkness to hide behind
you said some things you uttered words words forming sentences sentences
sentences sentences until I couldn’t figure out if you were making
sense or jail terms out of the zephyrs in your skull..
sentences months and years in the making lifetime sentences
not jail terms but sentences that have imprisoned me
and I lay there beside you your warm body
that secretion of hot tendrils snaking their way across my belly
thinking of a Rubik’s cube three sides intact
almost completed
almost solved
almost perfect
well, I wondered at what cost the last faces came
in pursuit of separating colours of keeping things apart of being uncomplicated
I like my drifting colours I like the floating squares
that make up my six tattered faces inscrutable and
sliding from one to the next I like
the puzzle of me
no $5.95 jigsaw of a nights work but the art of a lifetime…
don’t you?