Feelings are real.
but they don’t have to control your life.
Monthly Archives: August 2021
These Posts of Myne
One day you’ll read these, and wish you had of read them sooner.
You’re Still Here
I think about you everyday. I miss you. I think about the what have I dones and the whys and why didn’t I and how could I and what was I thinking and in all of this, making some rational sense because sense without rational is like the national anthem without pride.
oh Life, I don’t want to disappoint you anymore.
Ugh..
My brain feels like it’s a carton full of rotten cucumbers. the kind of off soup that makes you sick.
how come you can’t follow your own doctor self ?
you have prescribed yourself the podcast, the meditations, the mentors , the friendships …. and on and on…
yet you can’t log in to the stabilized.
you can’t switch over.
when you try. You can think you really got it.
but one trip over a sidewalk crack- oh wait that’s not true for me- I laugh when I fall physically. But
this is mentally ..
you think you got yur method of exercise and health going
and then you eat a brownie.
Then you have a smartie.
where is the maintenance????
where is the frozen ice brain that slowly melts.
isn’t all ice frozen ?
Damn.
I’m in a ruin tonight.
and it’s not ancient enough to be pretty.
A Meal for Two
Relationship with my eight year old son strained
like raw spaghetti rigid in the sink
and when you toss those toothpick noodles against the wall
nothing sticks.
The sauce burnt on the stove
even though I like the smell because it smells like I cooked something nice
like how I created my son without looking at a recipe
or the ingredients.
Who measures out sperm or eggs?
So here I struggle, while he stirs the pot
of boiling brain temperatures of mine
and racing heart.
The perfect dish of basil and mushroom spaghetti doesn’t exist
but getting my hands dirty and paste splattered on my apron
that I don’t even wear because my whole body is a canvas for stains,
is this process that at least
I can use to become better
at
making the dish of Life
sticky and sweet
enjoyable.
Morning
I need to get up and be outside this early more often. It’s beautiful. Invigorating. Fresh. Like the world and my heart are one. Lush and loyal.
Solidifying that I belong here. That it makes the sense. That I am exposed both to the stillness of the wet dewy bushes and the flourish of activity from birds, squirrels and the six meet up of cats down the dirt alleyway. I like it here. At 7:02 on a Saturday morning in August.
Weight
My sister asked if I lost weight.
The cool part was that I went out for Indian food and an ice cream with my mom and her friend earlier that day.
Otherwise I had been eating soft boiled eggs, a case of soda water a day and sautéed mushrooms and garlic for dinner since august 1st.
Oh, and I dropped the booze out of the system too.
I haven’t jumped on the scale at all since July, but it was nice my habit changes were noticed.
Just been super tired and been downing black ice coffee like they’re gonna stop selling it.
August Platform
Awgust blooms it’s way onto the platform.
a different approach is taken.
i don’t dance yet,
my mind is stabilizing still.
trickles of frustration and anger
leak in.
i let them.
I am not afraid of what I feel
i am shifting control to me.
and Awgust will be my platform
on which to do so.