Outside it's what I consider cold (61F and windy), and I am cuddled in my armchair with the windows open to allow my apartment to air out and smell like something other than dinner.
I am wearing my comfy jeans and my comfy Donna Karen sweater, and my comfy slippers are hanging precariously off my toes; my pillows are behind me, my teddy bear next to me, and my laptop on my lap.
I'm eating carrots to stay under my calorie limit and Project Runway is on tv...yes, I do believe this is a wonderful night!
Friday, October 7, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
beautiful dreamer
The weather is chilly now; clouds scud across the sky as the wind rustles through the tree branches and the streetlights flicker in shades of bright-white and orange.
I hear the footsteps and the voices on the balcony and I yearn to go out there and scream at them to shut up so I don't have to deal with the loneliness and the frustration that I don't have anyone to talk to.
Time for bed.
I hear the footsteps and the voices on the balcony and I yearn to go out there and scream at them to shut up so I don't have to deal with the loneliness and the frustration that I don't have anyone to talk to.
Time for bed.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
the drinks absolve our sins
So give me something to believe.
I sit alone in my apartment, music singing to me, the nighttime locked out and the darkness locked in. Soaking, crumpled tissues scattered on the floor are the evidence that I will hide come morning.
The beast is just my fear.
I spent two hours on the phone today, mostly silent, mostly listening. I txtd my cousin and my neighbor; my cousin is the best. I find myself judging my neighbors for the contrast between their words and their actions. I find myself judging myself for the contrast between my thoughts and my actions.
It's already done.
I talked to one of my friends - my real friends, the true definition of the word - tonight. He opens his life up to me, I open mine up to him and we comfort each other, strengthen each other, and laugh with one another. His reassurance keeps me afloat in the choppy waters when my lonely strength might fail.
Friendship, family, loyalty...I am rich in these things and many others, and still I wake up in the night and look at the empty pillow next to mine and feel the ice in my heart. I sit up every morning and know he isn't in the bathroom shaving; I check my phone knowing he'll never txt me again.
I want to be happy with what I have and am working to achieve. Is there an app for that?
I sit alone in my apartment, music singing to me, the nighttime locked out and the darkness locked in. Soaking, crumpled tissues scattered on the floor are the evidence that I will hide come morning.
The beast is just my fear.
I spent two hours on the phone today, mostly silent, mostly listening. I txtd my cousin and my neighbor; my cousin is the best. I find myself judging my neighbors for the contrast between their words and their actions. I find myself judging myself for the contrast between my thoughts and my actions.
It's already done.
I talked to one of my friends - my real friends, the true definition of the word - tonight. He opens his life up to me, I open mine up to him and we comfort each other, strengthen each other, and laugh with one another. His reassurance keeps me afloat in the choppy waters when my lonely strength might fail.
Friendship, family, loyalty...I am rich in these things and many others, and still I wake up in the night and look at the empty pillow next to mine and feel the ice in my heart. I sit up every morning and know he isn't in the bathroom shaving; I check my phone knowing he'll never txt me again.
I want to be happy with what I have and am working to achieve. Is there an app for that?
Thursday, March 10, 2011
leave the light on
The lateness of the night is a friend as I work away, not on my duties, but on my loves. They asked me for a love song and I laughed in their face; I write those all the time but rip them up or cast them away into fields of lavender as those I write them for melt away.
I'm still alone at night, waking up with my faithful teddy bear cuddled in my arms, my pocket watch ticking away the minutes as I stretch and yawn. And now I wonder, wonder why I'm waiting the way I am. I fill my minutes usefully - mostly - with my degree and my avocations and still I catch myself dreaming of a "him" to talk to, to listen to, to be with.
I think I think too much.
My dreams push others away, not because they're all-consuming but because they're mine and I have them and I won't let them go so that I can fit in my pigeonhole. I'm still learning the rules to this game, but I have all the time in the world and I won't settle for anything less than happiness.
Through my window I see the lit up glass staircase belonging to the hospital, and I admire it, that crystalline green light shining like a beacon against the night. Streetlights stand before it and I gaze over their orange pools, pretending they lead to roads that I know not of and hold treasures and alluring curves and bends, hiding the future from those who travel them.
I wonder if I'll ever meet anyone who sees what I see?
I wonder...can you see me?
I'm still alone at night, waking up with my faithful teddy bear cuddled in my arms, my pocket watch ticking away the minutes as I stretch and yawn. And now I wonder, wonder why I'm waiting the way I am. I fill my minutes usefully - mostly - with my degree and my avocations and still I catch myself dreaming of a "him" to talk to, to listen to, to be with.
I think I think too much.
My dreams push others away, not because they're all-consuming but because they're mine and I have them and I won't let them go so that I can fit in my pigeonhole. I'm still learning the rules to this game, but I have all the time in the world and I won't settle for anything less than happiness.
Through my window I see the lit up glass staircase belonging to the hospital, and I admire it, that crystalline green light shining like a beacon against the night. Streetlights stand before it and I gaze over their orange pools, pretending they lead to roads that I know not of and hold treasures and alluring curves and bends, hiding the future from those who travel them.
I wonder if I'll ever meet anyone who sees what I see?
I wonder...can you see me?
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Do something different
I've begun again on that winding trail and am constantly beset by forces that push me and irritate me. I'm tired already but I'm fighting the fatigue.
In the darkness of the night I speak and am heard; I listen and reply, not always with words. The words take the edge off of my loneliness, but the bittersweet knowledge that we're separated by oceans still stings.
Maybe one day the world will shrink and the oceans move.
In the darkness of the night I speak and am heard; I listen and reply, not always with words. The words take the edge off of my loneliness, but the bittersweet knowledge that we're separated by oceans still stings.
Maybe one day the world will shrink and the oceans move.
like the dead that walked before me
Today I stood and walked away, I'm never coming back this way - something about Does It Offend You, Yeah? just makes me want to write.
All the beauty in the world withers when you're in pain, and you wish would die so you didn't have to avert your face from the world while you walk alone but it never will.
All the beauty in the world withers when you're in pain, and you wish would die so you didn't have to avert your face from the world while you walk alone but it never will.
So Happy I Could Die
Happiness is like sunshine: you can't hold it or store it, it's either there or it's not.
You can eat your feelings or drink yourself under the table but all it does is screw you.
You can eat your feelings or drink yourself under the table but all it does is screw you.
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