My Muse, My Friend

You know, I just don’t understand you. And I wish that I did, or at least knew more about you to make the confusion a bearable placating thing. I’d like to be a friend. But somehow I think I have fucked things up along the way, and while I have vastly tried to fix things, I often feel I’m making more of a mess. I might convey this sentiment to you, if it didn’t feel like every effort is an unwarranted intrusion into your life.

I want to be a part of your life, but I think you may have misconstrued the implications of my desire for you. To be sure I have no ill intentions or misguided delusions of intimacy and that is not exactly what I strive to clamor for. That’s not what this raucous is about. I have never thought that asking to be someone’s friend would be so complicated and tedious a task, but you seem to effortlessly excel at it.

Perhaps it is arrogance, but I cannot bring myself to try and correct you. I think it’s more like to be fear. And maybe I do want more out of you than friendship, but it’s something I’ve already taken. Whether you want to be or not, I’ve made you a muse. Or maybe Fate has, she tends to be a mucker. My many misadventures have seemingly led to you, and so I will take this if this is all I have to gain from you. And let me assure you, it is not enough.

I want to be close. I want to be friends. I want to be the kind of people who call each other in the middle of the morning/night/etc because it is all suddenly so overwhelming and the sheer magnitude of it is crushing down and you can rant and rave endless and know the other person is listening and even if they haven’t had that exact feeling they know where you are coming from and have some thoughts to express and some suggestions to make. And even if all the advice fails, you know it is all going to be fine because you both can share in that moment and be free to be afraid together, knowing in the end the storm will pass and it will be good again tomorrow.

I am not searching for a savior, saint or prophet. Nor would I expect you to fulfill those roles. I am merely asking for a companion on this long lost road, on this distant journey to many misadventures. And sadly I’m finding the place I believe you should belong, despairingly vacant.

Attack of the Cat

It’s slow going here most days. The weather outside would be surprisingly warm tonight, if I didn’t live in Florida. One of the conveniences of living in a subtropical climate is the ability to go swimming almost completely year round, and often as late into the night as you’d like. Unfortunately, the only way for it to be this comfortably warm this late into the evening is by it being equally hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk by nine most mornings. In a state that spends nine months of the year in summer, we snow bunnies can be quite reluctant to enjoy the day.

I will not lie; I am a night owl by nature. Everyone that I can relate to in my family is a night owl. We may adjust ourselves to suit our jobs, school, etc – but make no mistake, the first opportunity we have to stay up until sunrise and we’re all over it like white on rice. We also benefit by being insomniacs, thus capable of running perfectly fine on as little as two hours of sleep.

This would seem irrelevant, excepting the fact that the town I reside within is almost completely diurnal. The tragedy of small cities. The danger in small cities and towns with night-owls is the ego. Oh sure, you might not think anything of it at first, “This is nice, quiet.” Sooner or later you’ve developed this whole “I own the night,” thing and start coming up with paranoid-delusional reasons as to why others are alert at such late hours. It seems oddly appropriate that most of these scenarios are made up while midnight trollings through Wal-Mart. By the way – if you are ever trapped there after two a.m.: Duct-tape Bowling.

This is a lot of meandering – and if you’ve happened by looking for a point I’m afraid you should call the game now, pack it in and go home.

I’m staring that the belly-button rings sitting on my desk just beneath my monitor. They’re nothing special, just large globular neon-pink marble acrylic balls. I love that you can find objects in various places for significant price differences. At Sally Beauty – they are $10 a piece, somewhere in the Market of Marion, I got them 3 for $10. Mix-n-match – imagine that.

If you ever get a chance, you should listen to Coast to Coast. I’m not sure if they’re affiliated, but they do have a website, and if you search hard enough online – which is to say not very hard at all – you’ll be able to find free broadcasts of the show without need of a radio. Just in case you are like some writers around here who only listen to the radio as a way to wake up in the morning.

I have come to the tragic conclusion that I just don’t want a job anymore. I neither care nor have the motivation to go out and seek one. Don’t get me wrong, I currently have a job which I love – the hours and pay are shite so I need to move on. But I don’t want a job. I want to write and do my art and get paid for it. Grants are hard to find unless you’ve been published as a writer, but I am avidly looking. And I am working at a double major in college to get some lame pays-the-bills shindig. I just don’t necessarily want it. And as my month of nearly paid vacation comes to a close, I find myself in mourning.

And to pack it all in, I’m not entirely sure if work is the only cause. It may just be I’m tired of here. Which is quite possible. The tragedy of being tired of where you live is the fact that most all of your friends and family are there. Abandonment has never been so complex.


Holy sh*t dude, I totally forgot I was in the middle of something. haha I went and altered the look on my dA and got to chatting with a friend and completely forgot what I was doing. So sorry to have forgotten you – but I suppose that’s where we’ll end it for now.

=^ ^=

Serpants And The Moon

What is it that compels the best of us to become so enamored and enraptured by such random items? I go walking every evening, preferably after 10, so that I may enjoy the quiet pleasures the night brings me. The sweetness lingering in the air of honeysuckle, jasmine and various other flowers blooming in the wild fields and gardens of my neighbors. The silky blue-silver look the clouds have, their underbellies lit by the moon. the acidic orange white of the clouds draping her ivory crest, a rabbit. The soft glimmer of the fireflies calling to their lovers. the sweet screeches of the cicadas doing the same. The chortling hoots of the family of owls. The scamper of the rabbits as they gleefully consume the strawberries which are their favoritest of foods in the gardens.
Last night I failed to notice something though, and made a horrible error. I stepped on a snake. and this might have been bad on it's own, however I did not notice until he had bit me several times. Worry not about me, the bites did not break skin even. I am more than fine.
And I did not worry about myself either. Fearing only for the snake. Which most species are nocturnal. It's essentially prime pickings for them. And I feel awful. Normally I watch where I step every few yards, but I was enamored of the moon and intoxicated on wonderfully great conversation.

I do not feel excused, however. I am truly mortified. But then a rather lot I do is concerned more for animal welfare than my own. It has always been so. And will always continue to be. I find that the people who share my view of animals as childlike are most like myself.
We who become so enraged and angered at the abuse of such defenseless creatures. For what dog ever attacked the owner after eons of abuse? Wives kill their abusive husbands FAR FAR more often than dogs kill or even bite their masters.

And so, here I sit. Fully repentant and abhorred by my actions and yet unable to make amends, as I feel I should somehow. I can only hope that the snake is fine as he did escape into the wilderness. But somehow that does not seem enough...

I’ve heard of a Buddhist temple in the local area. Perhaps I shall try to find how local and go to visit and pray for the snake. Or maybe I’ll find some way to appease some snake god in some pantheon.


What is it that drives us to push some away, and pull some so close you drown them in yourself?

REFUSE

i've got it all on my mind exploding in a million different directions at once i felt that all things should perish, little deaths, for their little lives. twitchy keys twitch fingers, they itch and scamper silly little whispers of words stuck in my mind they keep me up at night and i'm afraid to sleep or sleep alone and sometimes these things are idle in their moods - tiny torrents of great gasping floods and it is all too much to bear. brr. bera. burrow. burn. bark. parka. you won't get it you refuse to understand. and THAT IS NOT FINE. i'm tired of explaining and aggravated with you and i want to run away because i am aggravated with myself. and i want to tell you what i mean but sometimes i don't know it. there is so much in here is another brick. this prison gets higher every time i turn around around around the way. some sorrow filled nights and the loneliness is creeping in. i want to strangle her with those satin laces. the ones i keep hidden from myself in the tiny crevices of places i dare not go for fear of loss of self control. ov. of. oven. burn. fires fires all around and here's the cross to put me on, i made sure those nails were rusty. god give me tetnus. lock jaw. wired shut. these rules of yours have already bound me. made me a wicked beast - one you'd sooner fear than love. and i want to rip your fucking heart out for it. i hate your slackjawed nature. your flippance. your lack of humanity. i am staring at you again. but it's only to see if you have a soul. or to memorize the lines you make. but it's not because i care, you're too frustrating. you suck the life out of everything. god damned leeches. human - people is the same as vampire - leeches. not that you'd know. you wouldn't know anything - but oh how you know everything. i'm lost again. but happier for it. but lost from what i want and need. i know the difference between your empty food and am hungry for actual fare. stuck stuck stuck. cannot find the shovel to dig myself out of this hole. DIG ME OUT. i'm shouting. screaming. calling. screeching. howling. I NEED MORE WORDS!! there is not enough of this. and where are you when i need you. in these late hours, these hours, the only time i am __insert whatever word you'd like here__. not that you'd know any good ones. ones. once. bitter. i am bitter here. and cold. and lost and stuck. i cannot - i do not - i am unable - i am

nothing Nothing NOTHING just not good enough just not well well welcome over and come inside i have some dreams and they're selling cheap trick clever trick you almost YOU'RE AN ALMOST and i i laugh hysterical hyster womb shredded home all is lost and long forgotten burn wander these empty hallways adn there is no punctuation, doesn't that just drive you mad MAD mad mad mad mad angry i shall strive strike stick street steam stream stem lest lost love never meant to make you wonderful bastard and how these things they come together right now olly olly oxenfree spelling, we don't need your grammar you nazi sucking the life out. suck vacuum YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? hahahahaha i want to shread snarl sharp furious claws raking down carving paths through flesh one scar two scar three scar MEMORY

i'm going to break them these damn fingers but first i'll rip the nails out slowly one bed at a time and sleep is too far gone and i will never lie down again i am a liar i am a theif and i want to steal every moment you are awake i want to climb inside that head of yours cover myself in your mind i want to know what you think inside there behind those eyes i see in i drown in i want those eyes i want what they're hiding I WANT YOU to know what i'm thinking to see how i see the world to find an interesting thought in me to inspire me to comfort me to strangle me to drive me and i am tracking you, keeping careful observance of your moves you wicked deeds those shadows you spin when no one is looking, i see how you think but not what it is i want to breathe you in INHALE suppression, supressed super supper drown down watership suffocate you fucking rabbits and i'm drowning in these thoughts of you and without you how lost can we be

CAN'T YOU HEAR ME

how hard do i have to cry how loud how long ever notice how easy it is to skin yourself do you know what you look like beneath i do i have found exactly how my muscles move flesh free to be me and i am secure and i know no matter how hard this gets i am stronger but i am tired of putting up with you ever have a conversation with numerous people but you are only making a single statement running out of time running running running you should be running

it's all coming down