I need to be asleep. I’m overwhelmed af. This paper is due today, I have a tour tonight, and a huge mysterious test I have to somehow get ready for by Monday early as fuck in the morning. (oh and also I have a tour Sunday night 👍) It’s wild. My heart feels, in turns, like a jaguar heart, like a cast iron mold, and like it’s made of moths’ wings. It’s wild.
Sometimes when it’s night
And I’m flutter eye tired or drunk or both
I’m filled with a blissful tenderness that
Aches and cauterizes
And makes me, so tragic briefly,
The way I need to be to be alive
To breathe and grow and know and thrive
It’s been a rough few days. ((and longer sort of but that’s not the point of this entry)) I went out and had dinner with my parents and my brother tonight and it was good. They had a gift card for $100 and they didn’t seem to think we would spend it all but I knew we totally would and we did. Being there with them felt good and hopeful and it didn’t hurt that I had a margarita. The outing was needful, I think, because earlier I was feeling fucked, having some substantial self-destructive urges. Just wanting to hide, and read, and not knowing how to deal with anything. Our last mammalian pet died a couple days ago. Not totally unexpected but still, it was sudden. Rough. Rough emotionally, and rough having to deal with, and arrange, the physical necessities associated with it. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, but I felt the need to acknowledge it. And I couldn’t stop working, touring, writing. But I’ve got a couple days now. Not completely free, but semi-free. And I got to have dinner with people that I love. I got to pick up my check. I got to come home to a very, very nice bit of writing from a person that I love.
though I did maybe feel just a little twinge upon seeing the last sentence of the previous entry I’m grateful to have a little time. Honestly, I could very much use it. I feel worn and drained of my important soul juices. So here’s to trying my best to re-hydrate them. Peace.
Committing fraud in the evening
All covered in soil
They eat what they eat but
We’re here to destroy
And the bones in the basement
They’re not about us
All these poems are displacement
They’re not about us
But the hollow point is
The howling harrowing hanging part is
Or it’s not and it’s dust
It’s borrowing so much but never enough
For the cooling silk side
The lavender throw
Occluding light with unseasonable snow
Tired. Sad. Zillowing. I’m tired of living here. I’m so fucking tired of living here. A dumb part of my brain wants to tell me that moving will magically fix all of my problems. I full know that’s not fucking true… but moving still sounds good. This place feels like quicksand. Drunkenly crying and sort of going hysterical is maybe cathartic? But also sort of not. Also sort of not. I feel pretty lonely, in the way that I feel like I don’t really have anyone to talk to about the stuff I’m feeling. No one I want to tell, anyway. No one I feel comfortable asking for opinions or advice. No one I think would really understand. I’m so fucking tired. I finished a section of my stupid paint with diamonds thing. It’s taking forever and people say doing it makes them feel relaxed but it really makes me feel sorta anxious. Ugh. I should do work, or maybe try to sleep, but that all sounds bad. Instead I’ll maybe just read a little bit. Reading often makes me feel better. Today I went to the library and got 3 books from 3 of my favorite authors, so that’s pretty nice. I just want to forget my problems and throw myself into a two day scene. I want a new harness and this $150 toy I stumbled across earlier today. I want to go on a date to see the new jurassic world movie, and make out in the theater and feel like a stupid fucking teenager.
Today is my five year wordpress anniversary. That seems bizarre and impossible, but also sort of not. It’s almost 3am. It smells like rain. I’m working on a paper. I only need to have like 3 pages of it done, and then I can sleep, and finish the other 3-4 pages tomorrow, before 6:40 in the evening, when I have to get ready for a tour. It’s honestly crazy how overwhelmed I can feel sometimes. Like… just… about everything. About the state of everyone I love. About words that I have to put down on a page and words I have to speak out loud to strangers, again. About what’s happening on someone else’s little fucking pocket rectangle. About water, roaches, food, teeth, skin, doctors, the animals in my care, parking, neighbors, clothing, communication, credit cards, electricity, internet, rent, contracts, home repair, cool air, hair, the unstoppable and horrifying march of time, music, gas, car maintenance, fear.
This is a weird list and I don’t know. But I do know that I feel overwhelmed and honestly, pretty lost. Trying to push forward, to do the things I know I need to do, to the best of my abilities, and trying to do right by myself, whatever that means. Trust, as best as I can, my heart and my guts, and let everything else fall away or fall into place. I don’t know. I don’t even know what i’m saying lol. What the fuck do I know? Nothing, that’s what.
I know it’s late, and I’m fucking tired, and in an ideal world I would be asleep in 45 minutes. But this is not that type of world, sadly, and it’s likely that the only way I could make that happen would be to not even get close on my paper length goal here. That’s really not acceptable, so yeah. I guess I’m going to just be awake as long as it takes.
Maybe I should make a playlist, like I used to do back in some old times. It was nice and good and I liked it, and maybe I should bring it back. I’m thinking about it mostly because I’m hearing and thumbing some new music. Also, because maybe it will make me feel a way that I would like to feel? ((lol… how exactly would I even like to feel?))
OooooooooooOOoooooookay. With the help of a couple ideas and a fairly long direct quote, I officially made it past my 3 page goal. Sooooooo yeah. I think it would be in my best interest to let myself go to sleep now, and grab as much sleep as I can manage to get. Hopefully my brain will be cool, and not make that way harder than it should be. Peace.
melancholy, I guess, would be the best descriptor of my current state of mind. I’ve had worse, certainly, but there is a dull ache that persists and subsists on me. Partially, maybe, because I’m alone and it’s late and I feel remiss after so much closeness. Partially, obviously, because of the stuff. I dunno. Last night was pretty damn lovely, as was the majority of today, really. It’s pretty fun to be able to make someone scream and shake like that, wracking and wrecking them and it’s good. Doesn’t hurt if they cry out your name at the end, (even if, like me, you sometimes sort of forget you have one) Is Dom drop a real thing? I dunno. Am I going to regret putting these fake nails on if I do it? They’re only supposed to last like a week or whatever, but I’ve literally never had fake nails before and I dunno how it’ll go. Am I going to be like… “typing is hard and I regret everything” or am I going to be like “these are sharp and sexy and what’s going the fuck on motherfuckers?” I think I’m going to just go for it, it’s like… whatever, honestly. The third option is that they will suck and come off super easy, soooooo I guess we’ll just have to see. They aren’t super long, and I’ve been sorta growing out my nails anyway, so hopefully it’ll be fine. I might not be as dexterous at knot typing tho, which would be annoying, because I’m very into knot tying. (I’m quite proud of the most recent tie I did actually, for a few reasons, but yeah. It’s whatever it is. (So wise, so sage) I finished my paper. It was worth like 10% of my grade, so I probably shouldn’t have half assed it as much as I did. Oh man. I just put on one hands worth of fake nails and I gotta say… So far…. not a huge fan. Definitely a bit more obtrusive than I would have expected, Left hand is not doing great at typing right now. Buuuuut, I peeled one off because I fucked it up, and it came off pretty easily, so I’m not too worried about it, and I think I’m gunna go ahead and do the other hand. Why not. ’tis done. I’m sort of getting used to it now, but it’s definitely different. I should really write some freelance shit, so we’ll see how that goes with these. I’m sort of getting used to them (one article down) but they’re still a little annoying. I’m guna stop writing this and finish a second article and then try to catch a couple hours of sleep.