quite telling, isn't it?

what do you want for your birthday?

just like christmas, but without santa's lap.

it's funny how we spout off all of the things we want...

but when put on the spot, nothing seems to come out.

like it's wrong to answer.

and you couldn't think of anything anyway.

well it's a month away.

birthdays make me freak out.

they make me reassess life.

question where i am and what i am doing

and who is in it.

it's quite nerve-racking.

quite disturbing.

i think i'd very much like to get away someplace and be loved on.

i'd like to have a couple of conversations without someplace i have to be...

i'd like to express myself without being judged.

without any responses in anger.

i'd like questions calmly answered.

i would like to be understood.

i would like to understand.

reassured.

and feel like a princess.

beautiful and adored.

celebrated.

eat really amazing food.

and a dairy queen icecream cake. oooobviously.

and have some sort of adventure to go along with it.

someplace i've never been.

and pictures to flip back through later.

well. that's quite telling, isn't it?

i can't make heads or [tales] of it.

I wish I was well versed in the correct names of construction equipment. There is this giant beast of a thing that I can only just see over the fence across the street. It is bent toward the ground, pounding through what seems to be the first layer of bedrock. I can feel every pulse in my seat... in the floor... the whole building feels like it is part of this construction. The speakers are working again and on one hand, I'm thankful for the mild distraction from the underground movement... but dear God, if it isn't Motown Wednesday. Please understand, I love some Motown and classic R&B. But, when you are subjected to a playlist of 50 songs (and with that number, I am being incredibly optimistic)... and it plays over and over and over at least once (often twice) a week... well... I could go at least 3 months without hearing it, and probably be a healthier person for it. I cannot change the station, and it is what it is, as they say.

And I find myself still absolutely content to notice the little details of the mundane... The bend of the tube in the ink pen on my desk. The way the sun illuminates it to a lighter shade of gray. Wondering when peppermints became spirals as opposed to the striped edges of my childhood. How much I envy the people on a morning run through the neighborhood.

How the shades over the window remind me of an accordion.

How my grandmother had one, and I used to cause an avalanche to get to it...

Anything to escape the discomfort in my body and the turmoil in my brain.

It's an hour into this day...

and there are miles to go.

And I'd like to go home... back to bed.

but, maybe not.

There's an addict in the other room who feels betrayed by the removal of our enabling hands.

And if all goes to plan, there are thirty days of awkward left... maybe less. no more.

There's a blonde asleep on the couch who wants to be friends and I feel like a judgmental cow for my disinterest. Every time she talks to me, I wonder if she's drunk or drugged. Everything in slow motion... and she doesn't even seem to know it's happening. Roommate on the love-seat. Marley's domain stolen, so she curled up next to Parker on the bed. And If I could disappear next to them, it would be ideal.

but you can't always get what you want.

All I feel from my friends is distance.

and my love is tormented by demons.

and for everyone, it is easiest to come down on me.

i am misunderstood.

some disagree.

just wondering what the hell i've done.

i can't even distract you with a meaningless story.

and i can't make out the reasons or rhymes.

i have no idea how i got here and how it came to this.

i feel like a tourist in my own life.

like there is no place to really let my guard down.

no place to cry without upsetting things...

causing worry

receiving lecture.

i've never been good at math.

and i'm asked to take a test on algebraic equations and calculus.

my eyes are glazing over just like they did in school.

and the tears come because i want to understand but can't.

and i'm lonely.

lonely as can be.

starlight, starlight.

tis memorial day.

i spent the afternoon being productive and then watching wwii HD.

and remembering...

honoring all of those military loves of my world in my heart.

past and present.

i'm so thankful.

i also went out for a margarita with my boyfriend's mom.

she's great. i needed that.

and found myself listening to the new john mayer record and deeply enjoying it.

i don't really know what to say to that.

also, the new exlovers album is out now.

here's a taster...

deeeeeelish.

that's all for me, thank you. [6 weeks til my birthday]

Bear with me.

I assure you, it isn't suddenly easier.

No one has been let off the hook. I mean, is any good-hearted soul able to be? They will take themselves to trial over and over and over, until self-forgiveness is learned. I feel the balances swaying all the time. Just when I think they are at rest, I let out a sigh of relief and it tips the scales.

I looked at myself in the mirror and saw all the traces of battery and assault from my own hands. Alone in the bathroom, again. Outside it's quiet. But really, everything is loud. Loud. LOUD.

I can't stop the replaying of conversations. The re-reading of texts of messages... the replaying of those dramatic situations... and I sometimes just want to know who is writing this bloody awful script. Because, it's as painful to watch as it is to live... and, I think we ought to skip to the part where I get to be happy.

I keep dreaming about bleeding out. Something's gone dreadfully wrong and the flow won't stop. I keep searching myself over like a detective for the clue to what has gone so very wrong.

I wake to find myself wanting to agree with those drunken assaults that said,

YOU ARE WEAK.

Seething with the rage trapped in a jar of moonshine.

I crave moments of stillness.

Moments of peace.

These tiny corners where I can hide for a while and rearrange my thoughts.

Where I can find the courage to sing it all out.

They evade me a little.

Or a lot.

I find myself in the place where I live...

when I'm alone, it's the murmur of the dogs playing, their constant need for my attention... their kisses, their warmth, their energy.

Or I'm not alone... and it's lovely. Laid back afternoon of wondering out loud... listening to music... talking or not. It's all ok.

Until someone's day is disrupted.

And they come barging in.

Like armed men in the quietest worshipful sanctuary.

I'm tired of loaded guns and loaded fists.

I'm tired of your head full of hate and your tongue full of venom.

I'm tired of the world revolving around the selfish.

Because right now, I need to just be quiet.

Then the air is tainted.

I wake up tired.

I wake up stressed.

I wake up hurting.

Pick up right where I left off.

I get alone in the bathroom and it gets louder and Louder and LOUDER.

I am infuriated with the little things...

the anger is so contagious.

And now we're all sick and I'm fighting harder than ever.

Fighting to disarm.

Fighting for peace.

And I don't want to anymore.

But, I won't join your causeless war and take it out on the world and those I love most the fact that I am dissatisfied with my present state.

BE SATISFIED.

So, let's find out what words take form.

Let's see what that looks like.

I'm done with this distress and agitation...

doing nothing but creating discord and knots in my muscles.

I want to be happy now.

i may be of little faith...

but i'll tell them to move.

and these mountains will move for me, now.

lost and found.

the pages gaped back at me

i stared them down

waiting for them to read my mind

and get it right

coloring in and out of the lines

just to see which one felt better

and doing away with the lines altogether

or maybe that's just what i want to be able to do

i walked slowly and purposefully

into her line of vision

because i could use a little courage here

i wonder if they'll be able to find me

i'm not positive where it is that i've gone

for the first time in a long time i am sure...

of this heart.

of this breath.

of myself...

and yet, a bit uncertain.

a bit lost.

but that's the beginning of true adventure, isn't it?

i wonder,

if i find my way into the chair

will you?

i wonder,

if i began to speak

would they find me?

i wonder,

if you took a couple of steps forward

even just once or twice

if you'd find me?

held.

i've never been so relieved that the music isn't playing around the front desk.

this morning, i slid along to work to the new patrick watson album. most probably the wrong time of this monday for that, as i nearly slipped into dreamland. so, kings of leon it was for the remainder of the drive in.

i'm not even sure what i feel like...

just glad for the noise of hairdryers and the constant twitter of conversations.

it seems to have finally cooled off in this seat of mine where the windows offer a view and a stifling greenhouse effect in the morning.

something's shifted and i feel a bit hollow. a bit fragile. a bit full... though, of what, i'm not exactly sure. i go through these waves of the need to converse, but mostly content to be quiet and work.

content to receive a smile and to be embraced. content to hear kind words. content to flip through the internet's pages of pictures and blogs i've missed.

easy to write.

hard to read.

trying to stay awake.

craving my bed.

separation anxiety from the dogs.

but mostly, just a contented, quieted feeling.

similar to the feeling of being tucked in a blanket on a wintery night.

or drinking your favourite tea and looking out of the window at the rain.

or being held.

and perhaps that's what it is mostly.

i'm simply being held.

now, don't let me go.

drive.

i swung my leg over the back of the bike and my dad started the engine. my mom beside. and off we went. the songs were even quieted in my head. just the distinct roar of a harley. just the wind. sailing past these little memory triggers and feeling the speed rush all around. i completely understand why people become addicted to riding motorcycles everywhere. in a car, it's a quiet haven, and then the speed and the turns begging to be hugged. but, here you feel everything. and nothing.

we passed a church where one of my best friends from school would get married. where the memorial services of some amazing figures in my world were held. in those walls life is celebrated. spiritual life, new life... worlds being welded together... and the mourning of life passing... the reveling in the good times. and so on. buildings that used to be something else. the old dollar theatre where i first saw snow white and the seven dwarves. the bakery where everyone seemed to love getting cakes and cupcakes for their birthdays. it was the town favourite. still is, apparently. my family always preferred dairy queen ice-cream cakes. my childhood best friend's house... and the time we tasted our first bit of freedom and road bikes around her neighborhood.

the straight stretch of highway... the memories of the drives when i was in high school and smitten by these boys turning men in the navy. i can feel the butterflies in my stomach, still. and then a quick turning at my naivety. the first time i'd raced anyone in a sports truck with a manual transmission... and the limiter kicked in.

and the strange wave of sadness when approaching the road where my father used to live... where some of my family are still.

and then, we headed back.

the week was full of tears. full of family. full of food. and a little wine.

and i realised, that a broken heart won't very likely heal overnight, or even within a few days or weeks. and there are places where the scars show always. but sometimes what you need is home, prayer, family (including pets) & best friends, good food, wine, music and some speed.

things don't feel so hopeless then.

it's getting better... a little better all the time.

certain.

and i was searching through the windows

and i could feel it resting on my bones

the kind i have to tear off before it finds its way into the marrow

the disassociation gets much harder after that

i could feel it eating away at my joy

right in the center of my diaphragm

i was even smiling

the strongest smile couldn't keep them from spilling out

thank God for sunglasses

i think it comes down to the fact that i need a little certainty.

there is nothing like the feeling that ones heart is absolutely grounded

feet firmly planted

and you are standing

'neath sunny skies

within stormy weather

confident and certain.

x-factors can be exciting.

can be liberating.

hold me steady in uncertainty.

the clouds turned a bit gray

it happens that way

yesterday, it was sunny

and the shadow of doubt passed over

come on, come on, come on!

i don't want to feel the want

the pound for pound

the lack

come on, come on, come on!

LIGHTS COME ON!

and make the uncertainty leave.

about myself.

about the future.

about the here and now.

anchor my heart.

let me be certain.