Breathe
Posted on | April 17, 2010 | Comments Off
She wished for a transformation to ease her pain of “being”…
Another form, so the hole she felt could heal and be forgotten.
The waves would be smooth, the ride building in intensity until its peak.
A fall off a cliff, the splash of a rebirth, she hangs her head and tries to breathe.
30,000 Pounds of Bananas
Posted on | April 17, 2010 | 2 Comments
One of her all time favorite records is actually a two record set entitled Greatest Stories Live
Harry Chapin was a storyteller. Cat’s In The Cradle
She listened with great pleasure as the songs she’d been hearing her entire life filled the room. She was grateful to her parents for a very eclectic musical taste. But this…this was storytelling. She was listening to wonderful stories from an angel…and thinking about having a banana.
“Still me”
Posted on | April 17, 2010 | Comments Off
I stumble, yet I have travelled this road.
You call out to me. I recognize the words, but not the face.
I feel pain, but there is no wound in view.
I try to speak, but bubbles just flow from my mouth.
I’m falling now, a different place, yet the same.
Around and around the merry-go-round goes ’round
Tears fall.
I am still me.
Suitcases…
Posted on | April 17, 2010 | 1 Comment
It was definitely time for a trip. A change of scenery. A change of pace. A step into an actual reality that was not of the written word. Might be a good idea. One can get lost in those things called words. She laughed quietly to herself. Sometimes, it was just far more pleasant to lose herself in a book or her writing, than to face the world. She suspected many people felt the same.
Actually, an overhaul of her current scenery would probably do a world of good. Some new paint, a little clean up and rearranging of the furniture (ok, a lot) and she might even feel as if she’d moved into a new home. The biggest problem was that her brain, being as wonderfully active and into itself as it was, liked to keep everything around it in its image. A cluttered state. Things. Lots of things. Things not in their place because there wasn’t even a place to begin with because there was too many of them. She often wondered how long she could actually stay in a Zen like room before having to make it a mess or go crazy.
It wasn’t as though she was all things material. It was also “sentimental” and “save the environmental” and sadly, often just “mental.” (Mental as in, this shopping will make me feel better today or I am on a slightly manic buying spree wheee!!!) It was indeed time to downsize some of her treasures and find them new homes. She hoped she would be able to start a little shop or if worst came to worst, hand a good portion over to Goodwill. She knew at least half of her clothing needed to go. She always wore the same stuff anyway.
Today was feeling like some kind of spring cleaning in the making….and she wanted to clean herself right out the door and let someone else do it for her because she didn’t want to deal with even the thought of it. Or maybe just hide under the covers. Or under the bed. No wait, there was no room under there.
So back to the suitcases she thought…and her trip. There wasn’t anywhere to go just yet. She would still be right there with herself no matter where she went…
Friday Night…
Posted on | April 16, 2010 | Comments Off
She had nothing to say…
Friday Morning…
Posted on | April 16, 2010 | 1 Comment
She knew many people were excited at the prospect of a Friday morning. It was the last day of a standard work week for some. It was the beginning of the day that would end in the beginning of the weekend. None of this really mattered to her. It was just the day that was marked “F” on the box in which she took her daily medication out of. She didn’t really have “weekend plans” that were any different than any other day. If anything she usually used “the weekend” as an excuse not to do something.
The rain decided to fall again last night. Guess it needed to “settled in” the mulch from yesterday. Looks good. Perhaps a new Garden Gnome is in order to compliment the scene. She’d love to put out a flamingo just to see if the Homeowner’s Association would complain. Mother says she just likes to stir up trouble. Good thing Mother lives a ways away and won’t be seeing whether or not said flamingo makes it into her lawn or not. (please, no one with flamingos take offense, it just isn’t the norm in this region)
The green of the leaves is such a beautiful color this morning it’s a shame it isn’t an acceptable hair color or she’d be good to go. All those months of looking at the skeletal trees thinking this place looked like death and now she had “life and punk hair.” It’s definitely shaping up to be a good day. And she doesn’t even drink coffee. (please, no offense to coffee drinkers out there)
She pondered the potential new Gnome for her front garden. Should it be a plain Gnome or one doing something Gnome like? This was definitely something to be contemplated with serious thought. It would probably take hours of thought in the local Walgreen’s with loss prevention representatives convinced said Gnome was a potential theft in progress when all she wished to do was make a decision. Which reminded her, she still had to make a decision about her hair…
Dusk…
Posted on | April 15, 2010 | Comments Off
It wasn’t long before the joyous tunes of the day faded and the happy atmosphere dimmed with the sun. Her anxiety level rose and if it had equated to strength, she’d be the strong guy at the fair right now, taking a swing with the hammer and winning his gal a prize for slamming it straight to the top. She wasn’t certain what the origin was tonight, just that it was there and it was probably best she get it under control.
She wondered to herself what the prize would have been had she actually been at the fair. Something nice and soft, not with those little Styrofoam balls but a little bit of squish to it. Or maybe something else. She wanted a tiara. She imagined herself standing in front of the tall rusty iron gates of the asylum, suitcase in one hand, tiara propped up haphazardly on her head. They wouldn’t let her keep it inside anyway she figured. But it made for a nice parting image. (Good thing none of this was real, huh?)
She took a deep, deep breath as the pill began to calm her. She did wish she had a shape-shifting talking dog, but he belonged to GlorySt. Clair in Real Vampires Have Curves
Tomorrow she would get her hair done. What exactly she’d have done would depend on her mood at the moment she was asked which could differ from the moment prior. She knew it would be silly to even try and guess what the end result would be now, so many hours beforehand. She might even go for something totally dramatically different, or not. Who knew? Now if she had a shape-shifting talking dog, she could pretend it was a “working dog” and bring him in for an opinion during the whole process…(processess…haha)
Butterbean!!!!!!!!!!!
Posted on | April 15, 2010 | Comments Off
So she suddenly found herself strolling once again down memory lane…hit smack in the face with a Whammy!
The smell of fresh mulch…
Posted on | April 15, 2010 | Comments Off
The gardeners were outside and she smelled the mulch. It made her wonder what might have accidentally gotten into the mix. One never knew what went into the “chipper” and we all knew from movies whole bodies could be disposed of in this manner. Of course she knew the smell of decaying body, and this was definitely not it. This was more organic, more earthy, more like, mulch… and it made the flower beds look pretty and set the “stick” in the front off like it was a masterpiece instead of, well, a tree that looked like a kindergarten child had drawn it. Spring was taking shape nicely, the green leaves on the trees were beautifully formed, the bulbs were all in bloom, even the hostas were starting the upward journey to make their appearance later in the season. She was pleased.
The birds seemed extremely pleased as well with the way the world was forming around them although the owl that had been mentioned previously hadn’t been who’d from again. She’d hoped she had nothing to do with that. If she’d known this was the way to get the owl to stop waking her, she would have blogged about him much sooner. She just hoped he hadn’t met any foul play. Especially the wood chipper.
She found herself doing one of the things she hated most. When forced with a challenge, instead of making a decision, the decision of doing this or that, she would do nothing instead, and that, in turn, would be her decision. And she HATED when other people did that. And here she was doing that very thing. She had a myriad of things to catch up on, some of which were actually pressing matters, and she would sit in awe of the beauty of the trees when she just didn’t feel like dealing with anything. She could envision herself taking a walk, and truly enjoying that invigorating feeling she would get, but she didn’t get up to do it. She could envision herself cardio boxing on the wii and the wonderful workout and how good she’d feel, but she didn’t get up to do it. She could hear herself making phone calls, paying bills, but she sat and stared at her laptop or out the window. She’d almost made this room her own asylum of sorts, minus the drool running down her face. She’d have to do something about that.
She closed her eyes and then opened them just in time to see a bird soar across the spanse of the window, the trees blowing in the breeze. A bumble bee paused as if looking in, and then continued on its way. It was a nice day she thought…for those who didn’t end up in the chipper anyway.
Feeling totally helpless…
Posted on | April 15, 2010 | Comments Off
Her chest grew heavy with anxiety and helplessness. Anger brewed as the frustration built. Her inability to do anything to help the situation was almost too much to bear. Her breathing became labored, her face flushed and her neck and shoulders became tense. She was reminded of patent leather mary janes as a little girl and how a white pair would scratch black and a black pair would scratch white and how she wanted a pair to put on right now, regardless of color, so she could jump up and down and throw a huge hissy fit like a 3 year old. Not that it would make a bit of difference. Not that it would ease her anxiety, clear her bronchial tubes or loosen her neck muscles. Might make an entertaining scene though.
She quietly dabbed her tears with the eco-friendly bamboo handkerchief as she tried desparately to breathe and push away the pain. She wanted nothing more than to take the pain away from the loved one that was hurting. She felt it so clearly as if it was her own, yet she knew she couldn’t possibly be the one hurting the most tonight. Just breathe. She had to just breathe.
She wished she could conjure up some magical creature to fight these battles. Vampires were popular lately as they could turn into bats and fly great distances, and depending on who you read, daylight was an optional obstacle. Witches were good. Shapeshifting talking dogs were cool. Zombies weren’t usually a good idea though, kinda conspicuous. She needed something heroic. Something new and exciting. Something better than a fit throwing Mama with a pretty dress and scratched patent leather mary janes. But what?
She supposed he was going to have to figure this out on his own. She was going to have to trust that he’d be ok. That he was such a smart young man and even though the circumstances were lousy, he’d find his way, like millions of other teenagers before him, and survive. (Preferably with a journey a little less like hers.)
She closed her eyes one last time and imagined a beautiful dress of white eyelet and white patent leather shoes…
Hello out there
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