Thought I’d burnt it all;
Every love note memory.
How can there be more?!
Was reading about dry drowning
And I suddenly was four.
Remembering my mother’s hypervigilance surrounding me
“It only takes a teaspoon to drown!”
And this led to my flooded warren…
My Piscean draw to the moon
Sand and waves
My mermaidian desires
How it wasn’t her android pelvis holding me back
But my fear of leaving the amniotic
Funny now, I think of it.
How we need the water
We’re 75% or something
(Same as the earth herself)
But she refused to let us wear seat belts,
Because if we wrecked in the drink, we’d drown.
She was so scared of water.
Never did learn how to swim
Except for underneath
And strangely, she never did come up,
To surface so she died:
In the life giving force we need
And instilled the fear
But it only made me want it more
Then the thoughts, they jumped to you.
The cliffs we slid down in winter,
And the irony of the ocean that day
Your ass hitting the ice,
A frozen attempt at life
You lost me in the sea grass
But climbed a tree to scout me a path.
I’m not hydrophobic anymore.
Like that imperfect bookshelf that your mother loves,
I love you.
Somehow it’s less about changing who you are and more about disregarding those pieces…
You think cannot be loved
Or made whole.
While you reconcile,
I quietly support
The day you love yourself.
As always, in this non-stop over-analytical brain of mine, I have been pondering a lot of things as of late; mainly the fact that over and over again I am told that I am a narcissist due to my verbal observations that I am the common denominator in all of my failures, from relationships to interoffice communications. I have been reflecting on this a lot, as I was studying for my clinical board exam. (I do not fit the criteria, in case you were wondering).
However I do find that I tend to be a pessimist, I feel paranoid often, and I make trust issues themselves suspicious. It’s a thing. I know it. I have done lots of therapy over the years.
As a teenager, I used to tell people I was bipolar, as if it were a cool thing…something to be proud of that explained how much of a special, creative, and emotional snowflake I was… Not knowing how fucked up that was. Ignorance is bliss right? But I do know that I have occasionally fit the criteria for a variety of personality disorders, namely dependent and/or borderline personality disorder, but they wax and waned over the years to the point that while I may feel it sometimes it is no longer acutely “diagnosable”(sp). I know that is the least professional way to put it but I am not sure how else to word it. Go with me, please.
Many times, I have found that I am jealous of people that are bubbly, happy, ridiculously positive. I have even caught myself assuming that they are less intelligent than I. I mean come on, how can you know what is happening in the world and still be that FUCKING happy? But the world is always fucked up. I have nothing to show that it will ever be anything else. We just have more knowledge of it these days, right? So what is the secret? Mindfulness? Ignorance? “staying present”? How do you get there? I believe that thoughts are things and that aside from being a commercial success, things like “The Secret” have something to them, albeit financially fleecing as they are. That does not mean they are not correct, real, or accurate. If the people getting rich and being successful from sharing this info are doing it, then huzzah, it works? Who knows. But how do you maintain it? How do you stay positive, happy, etc in the life we are given?
It seems to me that there is a common theme throughout all written history of humans, we suck, we are unhappy, and yet, we persist. We run the spectrum, from being capable of the worst things imaginable, to being capable of the most awe inspiring things. I always think of the movie, The Abyss and the part at the end where the distraught aliens decide NOT to annihilate us because of this observation. There is always the question of why, for what, how come, what is the meaning, what is happy, how do you find it, etc etc etc.. I have no illusions of being a special or creative snowflake for thinking about this. I am no narcissist in this regard. But really, how do people do it?
What is THE SECRET?
How do you feel satisfaction and fulfillment in a sustainable way? How do you maintain relationships? Jobs? Sanity?
How do you become a Katie fucking Couric? So maddeningly fucking positive that you can find a direction and impetus in tragedy?
How do you stay in the moment, when everything is distracting you with shiny lights or terrifying depths?
You know, asking for a friend.
“Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind”…
Always seemed like a terrible premise,
I wish I could erase it
as much as I never
ever want to forget.
As soon as I decide my memory is wrong,
it wasn’t what I thought.
I’m only remembering positive things.
I come across something proving I wasn’t.
It was real.
It is real.
It was possible for me.
Dwelling in the past.
Praying for a redo.
Scaling all against it.
How can an experience fix you
Yet break you
all at the same time?
I wish I could hate you.
Instead I hate me.
And it’s only now, that I get it.
Naivety and overconfidence. What a combo.
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
~ William Wordsworth
I’ve come to agree with all the cynics love is just a fairytale a myth made up for children like God and Heaven all that’s true is lust and obsession our need for need Emo…
Source: Fuck you, Oxytocin.
How much I love(d) Sarah McLachlan… whilst listening a soul sucking mean social media music provider, this song came on: Drawn to the rhythm and afterward I fell in a rabbit hole. The second CD that I ever bought was ‘fumbling towards ecstasy’. I think I was 13 or 14 and I spent the next few months with it on repeat constantly. I really felt connected to the words/songs and thought that they meant one thing, and I suppose then it did. I listened to the entire album today. I found myself instantly reconnecting. It was like visiting an old friend, one that you held secrets with and wax nostalgic but realize how much you’ve both changed. You realize with age and hindsight your previous way of understanding things are no longer the reality.
To you at least, everything has changed and you have a hard time remembering what made you love them before, because you didn’t even know then, the things that make you love them now. Ha. Perhaps this doesn’t make anymore sense in written form than it did outloud, but in my mind it was quite a profound thought to me.
Which led me to the train of thought about sharing things with friends or people you consider to wise, as you respect and value what they think and say. I’ve been having some pretty big contemplations as I’m want to do, as soon as things slow down, become complacent, comfortable (usually during the winter). I started thinking about the people that I would talk to then, and now, and the differences in how I would make decisions based upon what they would say. For example, I need to make a couple big decisions in the very near future and if I asked ten of my “go to people” (ha, ten is a stretch of people I would talk to about things) and how I could anticipate the ten, very different opinions they would give. They would be based on who they are, what they know about me, what they know about the situations, where they are in their own moods, lives, development, maturity, what they could have to gain or lose based on the outcome of the decision, etc. etc. etc.
And like the lyrics and meanings of songs, it’s all up to the listener’s present, their parallels to draw, their position to filter through.
So how does one make a decision about big things? Do you meditate? Ask your parent? What if that’s not an option? Peers? Siblings? Bosses? Therapist? TAROT for goddess’s sake? (Which again, is just like the lyrics… concrete definitions are applied to the words which communicate the meaning of the song but what is heard and inferred, well… that’s on the listener.)
Who knows. Maybe I just think too much. Just watch the lovely Sarah not trying to guilt you into gifting to the ASPCA. Isn’t she beautiful? Ughhh it kills me.