i need friends

I read an essay today that I found super excited. I was told, repeatedly, that after I took Modern Grammar I'd never read anything the same again. I've found that to be the case. I'm doing work for an independent study. This semester has been super boring for the most part. This essay was the most exciting part and I have no one to share that with. Lame sauce. I'm going to write a read and response journal entry about this. It sucks to not have any friends that I have things in common with. Most of my friends like literature but don't care to talk about it. I thought about how I'd approach the essay if I were to teach it. Maybe I'll get to some day. I keep saying "this essay". If you're curious, dear reader, it's "Conversation in the Mountains" by Paul Celan. It's rather short. I find the different uses of personal pronouns to be super interesting. I'm uncomfortable with using pronouns in my poems because that makes them feel "too personal". I need to find friends that would find this equally interesting. I'm bored in my classes, bored at work, and bored in life. On a positive note, I haven't written that much lately and taken to painting. This essay will have me writing for a while. I've been told by several teachers that it's a good sign when something you read compels you to write. :D

fall away friends

It's enlightening, not having a car. My supervisor just tried riding the bus for a week to see how the less fortunate live. He's learned a lot. But once he gets home, he still has a car. He doesn't have to grocery shop and run errands on the bus. The one thing that he hasn't been exposed to is how lonely life can get without a car. Friends visit at the beginning but they slowly fall away little by little. It's heartbreaking but only so much can be done. After a friend cancels five or six times... well what can you do. Out of sight out of mind I guess. It sucks to feel like you're being taken forgranted. I've often bragged that i have amazing friendships and I'm not so sure anymore. Friendship is a two way street and I don't have a car. ..

unokay

I'm not okay. I haven't been for weeks now. I need to find a way to get to okay on my own. I was at such a blissful place before the move. I don't know if I can reach that. I'm meeting resistance at every turn. I need. I need. I need. I'm scared to be alone with my own thoughts. I never imagined that the hardest part of not having a car would be being so distant from my loved ones. I hate feeling that visiting/seeing me has become a chore. Dear Peter, You said you're no longer a dishrag. Can I be more than a dishrag too. I want to be more than three-thirds. Love. Me.

just me,,,

i find it difficult to believe that i'll reach a place where it will be acceptable to be just me.  i see the [me] of always peeking out at the most unexpected times.  i've heard that there is this [somewhere] where being [me] is not only tolerated/accepted but it is encouraged.  i'm not sure this [elsewhere] actually exists but it is a nice thought.

[ceci n'est pas un sentier] black mountain [re-visited]

Last semester I decided to follow a dream...literally.
In my dream I recall asking [which way to black mountain]  so I decided to go find this place called [black mountain].  I'm not entirely sure how far I made it but I went alone.  And I had fun.
I told myself that I'd make it back, someday.  I decided I'd try again on 8/17...random date I pulled out of nowhere.

Lucky girl

Two of my friends decided they'd come with me.  I'm without transportation as of late<<<story for another day.  We made it to a different side of [black mountain] and started walking.  Not going to lie.  It was really really difficult!  I walk everywhere but I couldn't acclimate to the elevation.  Super awesome friends.  They were really patient with me up and down the mountain.  We played pool that evening.  It's still so new to me, but I feel loved.  Confusing concept, I know!  But it's true...

done...

I'm tired of planning for what could, would, might someday happen...

I hate getting my hopes up for a "better day".
Things always stay the same because I let them.
I'm not going to continue waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I'm going to try living life like the shoe is dropping before my eyes and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

Done and done.

Less than Human

Less than Human

“It’s impolite to falsify hope.” –Kellie Cooke

So then why do I do it to myself?

Confused that the real “you.”

            Is so different from the “you”

I believed to be true. 

            Are you no more than a simile?

Like an honest lie…

I hate feeling alone in a crowd.

People fail —once, twice and again—

I can’t not quit.

            But I can stop trying. 

Should I stop trying?

So many “you’s”

New you’s

            Disillusion me

Why can’t I keep

            the old you’s

that embrace me?  

I’m used to fallacies

            In “families.”

Exposed.

Naïve.

Maybe I should put the mask back on

            And pretend to be a person

I’m too often treated

            As

                                    Less than Human

dilemma

I don't know if I should continue to sit on some of the poems I have or post them on here.  My creative writing teacher told me that I can't submit my poems that I publish on my blog to online literary journals.  I do have a few I want to submit come fall.  I'm looking forward to my first rejection letter.  We all start somewhere right.

I have too many projects.  I started riding the bus again, and it sucks.  I'm contemplating starting a new blog chronicling my life, without a car.  I've already had a creepy stranger ask me if I need a ride.  I said no, duh!  Stranger danger 101!  I jaywalked for the first time in years.  Vegas really isn't pedestrian friendly.  I had 4 people ask me for the time, all completely un-phased by the invisible force-field created by my headphones.

I do need to figure out how to do with less.  I started carrying my backpack with me everywhere.  I have too much stuff.  Maybe my kindle will payoff but I still don't see how an e-reader can do poetry justice.  But I digress... we'll have that conversation later.  

everything in life is transient...

Today's been a rough day.  I've been in therapy for a while.  This summer was a transitional period.  I was going to remain with the same therapist and follow her to the new location where she'd be practicing.  At least that was the intent.  I have no health insurance and it seems that "alternative" methods of mental health care are next to impossible to get.  I was placed on a closed waiting list since I'd be transitioning to the same therapist.

I got a phone call today to schedule.  I was a bit surprised since my therapist stated she'd be available early September.  When I asked when her earliest availability was... well... I was told, "Your therapist has chosen to take a different career path but we can still see you here."  I started to cry.  And kept crying, then I cried some more.  I was making real progress...

Today sucks.

the climb

I hate breaking promises to myself.  I went to hike Black Mountain in January just before Spring semester started and I never made it to the top.  I told myself I'd go back again and make it to the top.  Not sure that'll happen.  I feel like a failure...at life.  I really need to get back there and try again.  My goal is to try to make the climb before my birthday which gives me about 6 weeks.  I have a few friends that I'm considering asking .  Hopefully something will come through for me to make it back there.  It means everything to me and maybe I'm putting too much pressure on myself to make it back there...but I have to.  I just do.

i'm kind of an amazing writer...

I got some of my grades today.  I had to write a final paper for my literature class.  I had zero interest in even attempting to write or explore the topic.  After I realized it was worth almost one-third of my grade...well I had no choice.  I told myself, "Don't stress, just write a C quality paper."  I felt very un-confident[by the way, I create my own words constantly but adding 'un-' before them ;) ] in my paper but I had a strong, albeit unique, thesis statement.  Anywho, I got an A!  Yayy me.  300/300 points to be precise.

it's May 2nd (a life lesson in a poem?!)

**I had a dream a few nights ago about different people (guys) trying to come through my door.  Some of them knocked, one came through (I'm not sure how) and I had to pull and push him out of the door.  I stood guard the entire time.  I told a friend about the dream and read her this poem after.  Her words of wisdom...

              "you can guard the door all you want.  there are many ways to penetrate a fortress.  someone already made there way in once, obviously there's a crack somewhere.  if one came in before, others will find there way in."  

I'm not entirely sure how that sits with me but here's my poem.  

it’s May 2nd

I have no idea where I am

people are talking

my eyes burn

            from crying over you

you did nothing for me to cry over

somehow I let you in

my door’s locked

I lay salt for bad spirits

I light candles to pray

I burn sage to cleanse

palm crosses

            guard               my door

 you walked inside

…

and made yourself                              at home

creeper: gotta move

I stand on the stoop of the stairs of my apartment a few times a day to smoke a cigarette.  It's right outside my door and I'm not one for smoking indoors.  Something about exhaling streams of smoke that helps remind you; you're alive; it'll be fine.
I have a creeper neighbor that lives in the building adjacent to mine.  I've seen him stand in the bushes in the morning when people are driving to school.  He just stands and watches.
Today as I leaned on the railing of my stairs he stared at me.  He walked to his apartment door and just stared... then he walked over to the power box, hidden behind the leaves of a tree, he stood and stared.  I looked at the floor to see what direction his sneakers were facing, he stood and stared.  Then he walked back to his apartment door, looked inside his apartment door, turned around, stood and stared at me again... then he turned around and walked inside.
I really need to move, or learn to smoke faster... It takes me about 7-8 minutes to enjoy a cigarette, 4 minutes if I'm in a rush.  I need to move.  This guy has always been creepy, but to have some random person stare at me, at night, across an empty courtyard is disturbing... Just a few more months and I'll be out of here.  In the meantime, I need to buy a taser.

mint chocolate :)

Add caption

lunch, pseudo-friend swap

I went to a strange head space Friday night and remained there through most of Saturday.  I put on a smile and kept my encounters to the socially acceptable.  It was rather easy to avoid the un-sayables [stole this non-word from one of my professors] since I wasn't around anyone I'd ever consider trusting or confiding in.  I met a friend for lunch, I'm super broke at the moment, but I felt bad for cancelling on her multiple times so I went.  I did inform her that I was in a bad place, not that I cared to discuss it, just that I wouldn't make for good company.  She was on the phone when I arrived, yelling at the on-again off-again non-boyfriend.  I went up for the obligatory, haven't seen you in ages, back pat that is supposed to resemble a hug.  She held her hand up, stopped me, and walked to the side to continue yelling at the non-boyfriend [I get that she's supposed to be my friend but I always feel really bad for him.]  We walked around as she sent what she called "really mean texts" to the non-boyfriend.  I hadn't seen her in months and we really had nothing to talk about.  She tried to interrogate me about my head space and I didn't care to talk about it, at least not with her.  I also felt bad that my world has been so all over the place and I didn't want to make the conversation all about my problems.  My problem, by the way, I'm my own worst enemy.  Not exactly an earth shattering revelation, but I'm learning to deal.  We sat, we ate, and she stared at me.  Puzzled I think.  I tried to explain because I felt it was the thing normal people would do.  I'm not sure if I didn't do a good job at explaining or she wasn't receiving the information I was sending out.  Her "advice" seemed well meaning but meant for someone else.  For those that "know me" like really "know me" it would have been almost laughable.  I tried to explain how I am and she kept stressing how unhealthy that is.  As we sat she'd put her hand on the table trying to stress the points she was trying to make.  I didn't get it and she definitely doesn't get me.  I'm unsure as to why we'd remained friends.  She did say, "I'm trying to help but you really don't want my help."  And she was completely right.  She lacked the capacity to help me because she doesn't know me.  She's a good person and always tries to go above and beyond for the people in her life, sometimes at the expense of her own personal needs.  We stood and left, walking the same way as strangers and said goodbye.

I walked into a store looking for a friend.  I didn't see her so I called her as I walked to my car.  She didn't answer.  I called another friend and it went straight to voicemail.  I ran into friend A as I passed a restaurant.  I told her I tried calling friend B.  And she informed me that they were both on the phone together so that's why neither could answer.  I walked around for a bit with friend A and she understood where I was coming from.  She gave me some great advice while holding back a bit.  If you think of life [or my world] as a puzzle, well friend A will never help me put it together.  She's a firm believer in assembling your own puzzle because it will be that much more rewarding in the end [I should probably tell my therapist about her.  That's how therapy functions for the most part, not to say that I'm calling her a free therapist.]  Her only advice, and I'm paraphrasing, was to retrace my steps to exactly where I was before I fell into the strange head space and I'd find my answers there.  I walked her back to her store and then walked to my car.  On the way I called friend B, very blunt and to the point, also a great listener.  I went into detail about my "issues."  She knows how to be honest, say something true, and most importantly get through to me.  Her answer was, "If you keep holding yourself back you can't aspire to be anything less that mediocre.  That's just how it is.  You're mediocre unless you start living."  It went on from there.  She convinced me to go to the "dress classy" party that a mutual friend was having.  As soon as I arrived we left to a bar and had girl talk.  We left the bar and went back to our cars.  I said goodbye and got real "I care about you" hugs.

Realizations
I often say that I don't have any real girl friends.  I'm a liar apparently.  I don't have any stupid girl friends.  There is a reason that I've latched onto these people for so long.  I have a select few special people that understand my world, where I come from and where I want to go in life.  They are aware of most of my issues before I ever have to verbalize them.  And they wait until I'm ready to verbalize my problems and tell me what I already knew but didn't care to face.

...

tears fall
and i feel nothing
am i dead inside
have i killed
the me-me
that i hide from every body
is she dead
gone
never to be seen again
i'm scared
the most painful
of pains
is preferred to emptiness
nothing

cried myself awake...

last night...
not sure how to process.
i'm on a brink
and terrified to make the leap.
i feel numb at the moment and its incredibly unsettling.
i swallowed tears all day today.
i regret not letting them fall.
i craved my old room
screams, yells
and the sound of the dryer
as i stared at pages
with lights on
and a fan blowing
can i escape in the wind blows
i want so desperately to give up
...
i wish i knew how
damn poetry
there's no bottom
i float in limbo
and need to keep falling
it physically pains me
i read a poem
and started to die
i need to feel something
but i've shut down...
let me come back.

Shredded pieces of Abuse...

Last year I had to go to UMC quick care for a Urinary Tract Infection (UTI) and a possible bladder infection.  One of the perks of having MS, I can get a UTI and not realize it until it’s at its worse.  The waiting room was packed.  I waited, and waited, and waited some more.  After a few hours I was brought back to see a doctor.  I explained my problems to the nurse, she was very sweet, and she instructed me to wait for the doctor. 

I waited, and waited and waited some more.  The doctor came in and instructed me to unbutton my jeans so he could examine me.  A little weird but I did as I was told. 

“Lie back on the table.” 

Again I did as I was told…

The doctor grabbed at my jeans at the waist and tried to tugged them down.  I moved his hand aside and lowered my jeans.  He did the same thing again. 

“I need to properly examine you and see if you’re having any belly pain.”

            “I’m not, but I can pull them down if you need me to.”

The doctor proceeded to press down on my belly.  Then he grabbed the waist band of my panties and tugged on them to pull them lower.  I lightly smack his hand and pull them down to expose more of my stomach.  He does the same thing again.  This time he pulled the band about three inches away from my stomach and caressed the inside of the waistband.  I move his hand to the side before his hand could touch me. 

           

The shredded pieces of the g-ma chonies I wore that day.  

               “I can do it.”

“Fine, sit up so I can listen to your heart and lungs.  You were complaining of an earache also?”

            “Ye-yess.”

“Your left ear is fine, we’ll clean out the right one for you.”

His hand lifted the back of my shirt as he put the stethoscope on my back.  I instinctively jerked forward.  He then asked me to breathe in deeply and then again.  He put the stethoscope on my chest next.  I felt this fingers and palm on my left breast. 

I don’t get what just happened. 

“I’ll be back in a few with the results of your urinalysis.”

I sat in disbelief.  The doctor returned thirty minutes  later with a more cheerful demeanor. 

“You have a bladder infection all right…” 

He continued to ramble and something changed in me. 

“Do I have to sign something?  Can I get a prescription so I can go?”

“Umm…okay, I’ll prescribe-“

“Okay are we done here?”

“The nurse will be in shortly with your discharge papers.”

The doctor left, the nurse came back and I kept getting angrier and angrier at myself. 

Today I would react differently.  I was a much weaker version of me at that time.  I’ve been in therapy for over a year now and I feel stronger.  I’ve heard people use words like courageous and brave when referring to me.  I kind of like it.  Maybe I am courageous and a little bit brave too.  I have many issues with past abuses that I’m dealing with.  At times I compare my past to others and think stop whining it could have been worse.  I’ve learned that it’s unhealthy to compare abuse and if it was a big deal to me, then I need to deal with it so I can move on at some point. 

Every doctor, with the exception of this one, has always talked me through the examination step by step.  They’d ask me to lift my shirt so they can listen to my lungs.  When checking my heart through my chest, I’d feel the stethoscope and they held it carefully, never to touch my skin, and apologize if they did.   If , on rare occasion, they needed to have me lower my jeans to check my belly, I was always asked to do it and I’ve never, ever had a doctor take such inappropriate liberties.  Fuck you.  Fuck you for violating the trust of a patient.   Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.  

One day I'll work through my issues with men.  I can't fear all men because they aren't all to blame for what I've endured.  This stronger me won't let anything like that happen again.

the Dinosaur...

I miss the dinosaur

he was never mine

he was never real

he was glorious

           

in my eyes

large                 green                long

 wis[con]sin

mask

           

lies in scars

battle wounds

           

a lifetime of fighting

survive

endure 

           

            persist

I was an eager student

           

his overflowing well

knowledge

—live   your     dream

make                it                      a                      long                  one—

I           miss                  the                    dinosaur

He        was      never    mine

           

He        was      never                real

I miss the dinosaur

I           am                    a                      dinosaur

                                   

I am real

"a dream is a wish your heart makes"

To Annette 

“A dream is a wish your heart makes”

                                    Cinderella (1950)

hope died

in light

ten years ago

haunted

spirits

drift                 from                bodies

trapped

victim

a wish

a dream

in vain

drunken slurs

                                    we judge

dye walls purple

spare tires

 garages          

           

attached          tails of cars

                                    we judge

tales                 of         wishes

           

dreams unchanged

un-chased

maps give directions

which way to heaven?

can you            walk                 there?

are you free?

do you smile with God?

is your pain gone?

are there trees in heaven?

can you climb mountains without falling off?

do…

you better be careful

you won’t be able to dance any more

can you dance now?

can                   you                  dance?

can       you      dance?

I want to dance