nuts and bolts

July 20, 2007

do you like to strip? well, i do, or so it seems. i am becoming more aware of this  stripping fetish  i seem to bear. the good news is that i’m learning to back away from driving  the screw into a hole where it just doesn’t fit. before i would twist and turn and peel the silver flesh until it had lost all its traction and held onto for dear life in the suffocating pressed wood.

inevitably someone or something would put undue pressure on said object bolstered by stripped screw and it was tickets–ringside. the seams burst, the dramatic dance to the floor and the loud bang as it split on the floor. the object of its  desire shattered and the screw rendered useless and without a fit.

you just can’t fit a square peg into a round hole or vice versa. and truly you shouldn’t even want to. everyone and everything is beautiful like the old 70s song serenades. as i said, i’m better. i’m cutting back. granted, i’m a stripper, but i’m trying to quit. life in that kind of work is just too dangerous for the soul.

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angst oozes

May 28, 2007

i have so much angst. i am almost overcome. i have had no time off and now that i have a day i feel like a tidal wave has waited opportunistically to wash over me. my schedule has taken a horrible toll on my quality of life. :o\

to breathe or not to breathe

May 16, 2007

have you ever found yourself spinning out of control? you know, you think you know what you want, but somehow when you get it, it’s all wrong. then you find yourself searching for a whiskey, a piece of pie or a warm thigh to make it all pass for a while. it’s funny. hilarious even.  

i’ve been working so much that i don’t know which side is up anymore. i feel like a hamster on a never-ending wheel.

and i want off. so at first, i looked to food with a few dabbles in alcohol to soothe my cracked-and-spewed-golf-ball soul. now i’m fantasizing about being held and feeling safe in someone’s arms–the characters change but the point is my head is in the sandpit.  

the caddy has left me on the ninth hole, and i don’t know the difference between a putter and a driver, you see? and there is a gyre of momentum that has swept me up, so i feel pressure to make the shot.  

i’m waiting for the course to be over so that i can retire to the clubhouse and perhaps have a whiskey and water. but i know that the game is far from over and that i’m missing the point. losing even. the scoreboard shows my lack of patience and control.

it is as if i’m determined to swing as hard as i can under the premise that if i just slam it, that is better than nothing. the bubble of my life can breathe and then go back to turning blue.  

yep, turning blue. i guess that’s where i’ve gone all wrong–why i’m sub par right now. i have to replace bottling and batting with deep breaths that envelope my lungs with fresh air and aim. if i just imagine filling my lungs with air, it is such a relief. you know, i walk around only breathing superficially. that’s the frenzy i’ve been in. 

oxygen wow. my eyes grow greener and my lips pinker and my cheeks rosy upon the thought.  back to the task at hand and my trembling digits. the driver is in my tight grasp and my eyes avert back to the bag full of distractions.

this is all wrong. this is not how it’s supposed to be. i’m suffocating. i just want to breathe.

soul police

February 24, 2007

pounds of flesh

flash in cornea

out synapse

abdomen

cyclops,

 

failure sits

hips bulge

budging pants,

ache

to be free

no more

hidingtuckingpulling

 

buttons gasp

rolls scream above

cotton panties,

desperation muffled by

cellulite.

 

let me out.

 

heartburdened mounds

cut off

circulation, steal

will…this is

grave.

 

“put it down slowly.

very slowly. we’re not

here to hurt you, mam.”

 

 

 

a stone in my heart

February 9, 2007

today i was talking to a wonderful friend of mine and she explained that after seeing her family over her vacation she had a stone in her heart. wow. what a beautiful expression and how sad it is that some relationships burden us with stones in our very hearts.

i have also had several stones in my aorta and actually had been sinking fast. thank God He sent me a life jacket and raft and that i’ve managed to untangle a few of my fleshy parts from the stones that were drowning me. but it’s not easy.

it’s a labrinyth of what ifs and whys and is this really what’s happening here—Funny, you know, people often ask, “when you look back at your life aren’t you amazed to realize that the stumbling block relationships and disappointments weren’t so bad after all?” so sure of themselves when they say this, they have that glued-on smile and kind pat on your shoulder. and i realize that the truth is that the more i assimilate my past, the more i realize that what happened to me was much worse than i allowed myself to understand at the time. i was in denial because i couldn’t handle it. so part of this unraveling of stones and dreams is about facing the ugliness. and it’s ugly. the stuff is like that extra weight you carry around your abdomen. you can ignore it until you see the fat rolls on show in a bikini or in print on a scale. So the more you heal, the more you see. of course, it may sound as if i’m embittered, but i’m not. it might sound like i think i got an unfair shake, but i don’t. i realize how lucky i am and just as i realize how ugly somethings were and are, inversely i realize how blessed i’ve been and how wonderful other things are. things work on a polar plane, right?

hawk with bird in city courtyard

January 29, 2007

yesterday estee and i were playing outside (yes, i still play outside in my mid-30s) and in the courtyard, we saw a huge bird fly to a lofty branch on the nearest tree. it was carrying a dead pigeon. it sat regal in the tree allowing us to witness its majesty. amazing what you can see anywhere—the opportunities around us.

after telling several passers by and getting a neighbor out of their homestead to see the spectacle, the great bird flew away. but not before it inspired me to watch not only the birds around me but also my expectations. certainly they can be pushed to something extraordinary. 

 

mirror, mirror on the wall

January 14, 2007

the other day i was listening to the radio and i heard someone mention how our lover/boy-girl friend/spouse is our mirror. gosh, as i sit here after drinking too much red wine, i realize even more than i want to admit how my mirror was so skewed that i still struggle to make right the distorted madhouse images i see.

gosh, i watch movies hear stories and read books about the heartbroken girl, the one who got the unfair shake, and stage right enters Prince Charming. but for me, stage right is still empty and i sit trying to sort out the mirror. i want to peel off the lying glass and start over. but alas not an option. or is it? i don’t know anymore?

you know, part of getting over heartbreak is internal and part of it is about meeting someone else. what an advertisement for the first guy on stage right, eh? you know, as time passes, and gray hairs crop up on my crown, i ponder the reality of being alone and the loss of my dream of the past and the odds for my future.

there is something to be said for those intimate and often overlooked moments of holding hands in the strangest of places and the soft cuddling after sex and the eye googling when everything is a treasured secret.

i miss being in love, yet i’m scared senseless. i’m ready to try. i just don’t know where to sign up.

 

emot-aeoribics

December 12, 2006

the recipe for success is channeling energy out of your body. otherwise, you can implode and no one will know. a new type of the living dead. lately as people have revealed some sordid secrets to me that hit close to home, i realize that instead of or rather along with stuffing my face to make the angst subside, i need to write it out. let it flow. i believe in love and i believe in being intense and standing behind what you say and do and doing something 200%. i sort of have decided that i won’t accept anything less and that i have a right to condescend. intellectually, it follows we are all elitists but it always feels so dangerous to say to someone or even think aloud, i don’t agree with you and i don’t respect you because your standards are not mine. for some people, i guess this is old hat. for me, it isn’t. although it is liberating to realize that i can create a moat between me and whoever i can’t tolerate. rather tyrannical it seems but maybe its just self-preservation. all i know is that i am still swimming away from the old me that accepted way too much of what was less than acceptable. so i’m releasing the pain and the fear. because one day, i’ll meet someone who believes that i hung the moon and that there will be moonlight and roses. 

 

heartbreak hives

December 4, 2006

over the last few days, i’ve been working a lot and finally fell into a deep sleep last night. sadly i awoke after having a nightmare where i was visiting my old homestead and there was a party. i missed everyone and being a part of something. my now ex-husband was there and he laughed at me and said what a mistake i had made by leaving him and how i could never come back. after having put the atlantic ocean between us over two years ago, i had thought that such heartbreak hives would have been behind me, but every now and then the rejection and sadness seeps its way through my very pores and wakes me as it escapes. gosh i had and have a lot of grief still to exude. telling isn’t it. i almost didn’t want to put type to screen but then i thought better chronicle it for myself and for anyone who considers playing with someone’s emotions as lighthearted fare. it’s serious. it’s grave. it can be amazing, but it can also be devastating. please be kind i implore you for all of us who are still in rehab.

my two scents

November 20, 2006

lately, due to the overhaul healing and all, i sit and stare into space for hours at a time remembering and sizing up my life. last week, i felt like my mind was in a fog. this week, at least i have a 1000 candle flash light, but things are still far from African blue skies and sunny.

rather than acting as a reactionary, i’m trying to do something freeing for my soul. i want to liberate myself from the muck. great bumper sticker material. ha. so as part of my liberation from said muck, i ‘chopped’ my hair off as so many people have surmised and ordered champagne, now yvresse.

the first perfume i ever had a hand in getting myself. i associate it with the discovery of my sensuality, falling in love, adventure, travel and independence. after i ordered it, i conjured the smell and fell into a daze. indeed, i’ve been waiting with bated breath for more than the bottle of sweetwater. And it’s been a real page turner this dhl wait. i’ve had to hound DHL who apparently decided to not deliver it until i called for the third time and actually waited outside my door. i met the man outside afraid that he would drive off again.    

i’ve just sprayed it and sit mesmerized by the scent and what it means to me. 

i’m reclaiming, you see. another book has closed. i figure my life thus far has been like one of those mother books that has books within the book and chapters within the books within the book. and one of my books has closed. i’m on the third book now. this is in essence the prologue. i’m curious how this one will turn out.