Three scoops of cinnamon loose leaf
To drink up the spiced love of
Viewing the heart of the red; it is
It is the only way I want to
Three scoops of cinnamon loose leaf
To drink up the spiced love of
Viewing the heart of the red; it is
It is the only way I want to
The silence fills the temples of my brain
so that it roars with the consistency of you.
Your echo reaches into the walls
the ones you navigate so well through
and in them, continue your empire.
Sometimes out into the butterflys of the air
” You’re dead, you died, you’re gone.”
The power of convincing is a strong weapon
and I have my heart arms around it tightly.
The windows cloud with discontent,
upset at you for making my thoughts
my heart on the other hand
holds hands with yours
” You’re alive, you live, you are here.”
A battle between two things
that are within
two feet of existence of one another,
the head and the heart.
How does one make them best friends?
I felt this one coming.
I saw a friend on Thursday last week- knowing I needed that interaction.
The next day I know I needed more. It’s the long weekend after all and there are weddings and my ex is attending one of them and people are doing stuff-doesn’t even have to sound fun but STUFF- and here I am on the Friday and Saturday nights in bed at 930pm with my computer and flavoured water.
So when everyone is busy and I have noone I can find,
I am alone in all of this and if my thoughts are around, they can go absolutely hay wire.
I question myself.
Here is what the inside of my brain has looked like the past 48 hours inbetween the dead pauses of nothingness:
‘ I just want to forget this all ever happened. I want to move on easily. I should be able to do that, I’m pretty, I’m funny, I’m a quirk. There was never any problem of finding anyone before. What if everyone is getting snatched up, and I’m going to be that single 40 year old Mom alone. And doesn’t that mean my intentions are wired all wrong. I just want to be in a healthy functioning relationship and that tweaks everything. My standards drop and anyone that is a decent candidate, I’ll go for. But that’s not how I want to be. I just want to take my time, that’s what I should be doing. Letting time pass and being stable. Well why can’t I be stable. Because I’m stuck in the past relationship. Why should I be stuck? He lied about the things that supposedly happened. He’s been mean to me and I’ve dropped more than half of my pre existing life for him and that wasn’t enough.I can’t make him believe me anymore. He has to believe me for himself.’
And in those thoughts, anger boils in. I’m guessing this is part of the grieving process and I am timid to feel this because I know I’m pushing it to make it easier and that at the same time I want to not want to not be with him, I know I do. But:
‘ Why should I watch him continue on his life with his giant family surrounding him and supporting him while I am a hermit, feeling sorry for myself. It’s okay to be with people now. You left a lot of people but I think it’s time to find them again. If only for a boost back into the world. You’ve hesitated to do this.. ‘
because you thought, ‘ I can’t step back into those old ways with other people, it’s alright to take some time away.I need to be happy with myself first. The way I used people before, was wrong.’
‘I don’t have to go about them the same way do I. I can be upfront and tell them my intentions. I don’t have to be 20 years old again. I’m 7 years older and I won’t do it the same way. It CAN be done differently you know! ‘
I love myself and am happy with myself but I need to get out there and feel that validation. I am vulnerable and weak and I don’t see any other way. I’ve tried other ways as it is. No drinking, church, reading, exercise..
I need that healthy attention and that is perfectly normal and I shouldn’t stop myself from getting it just because I’m waiting on my ex. I need to feel better. I need to get into a better position.
And if that means putting my foot out there into familiarity with a twist, I have to do it even if I don’t want to do it. I’m still hooked on him remember? I may feel wrong for doing it because of him, but I have to do it for me.
‘ You turned away from this method because it wasnt fair to him and because you didn’t want to slip into the previous ways it was before him.’
‘ But… you don’t have to make it the same way!! Those people have changed too and will view the friendship differently!’
Desperative thoughts calls for measure I am unsure of. I won’t know until I try.
I need to get out of this rut big time or I’m going to sink in it.
And then the boat of my brain thinks….
‘ What if I got back together with my ex in Thailand?? ‘
I come home from a day of post idea after post ideas that continued to litter my brain floor throughout the hours of the sunlight and when I sit down to write with tea, pyjamas and cozy wrapped around, I cannot find them. They are gone. As if a swifter or one of those automatic alien vacuumn machines buzzed around and sucked them up.
What’s that all about Braino!?
You think I’m out with people.
Late at night I dance with beer sloshing out of my bottle
and straws flicking out of my thin, bending cup.
I’m busy on my phone
collecting up all the people I dropped in the past year.
I’m meeting people left right and center, going to the movies and having dinner by the lake.
You think I’m doing that
and not laying on the basement carpet staring at the water stains on the ceiling.
You think I’m blasting through this like it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done
but I’m here
I’m flipping right here
in the square middle of my bed under my covers with new tears running over the dried tears
with no desire to see or talk to any soul but you.
I hate that you think I’m not doing what I am.
We do a lot of suggestive asking.
” Doesn’t the grass look a little long?”
” These cups are really old aren’t they”
” Now, how long have we had these chairs dear? It’s been ages since we’ve got new ones.”
It’s a really bad habit.
It’s okay to define what you want by being direct.
It’ll save a lot of frustration and confusion- when your partner,sister,parent or friend, understand exactly what you want from them.
Clear cut questions may seem unappealing and too ugly to apply. But you start asking straight, and then continue asking straight, and you eventually get better at your wording, your tone, and your expressions.
Until they come out nice, and habitual and easy.
As if there was never a need for them to be curvified in the first place.
Get going. Go in the direction of being direct, until you ARE direct
until being anything other than that,
is the absence of direction.
Let’s name our child Fucker and hope that he doesn’t get made fun of.
Let’s put a red balloon in a room and hope it doesn’t touch one of the thousand spikes that line the walls.
Let’s build our house with sand and hope it never rains.
Let’s buy 3 dollar shoes from some second hand store and hope they last us through a week of hiking mountains in South America.
Let’s go to Las Vegas and hope we don’t lose 10 bucks on the strip.
Let’s hope as soon as we step in front of a camera we’ll be the next Leonardo Dicaprio.
Let’s eat all the burgers, chocolate and sour and sweet candy we can and hope we don’t gain weight.
Let’s hope we’ll get back with our ex in the next year.
I’ve got to believe it’s idiots hope, if I’m ever gonna let it go.
But how you supposed to let the hope go, if you truly believe in it?
Is that what makes it idiot hope?
Let’s step into our Imagination Station and play abit.
We have light bulbs in our stomachs. Throughout our bodies, near our hearts and on our knee caps. And we have a space in our brain that are switches. Off, on. Dim.
We can light up our insides when we choose to.
Our head hair strands are symbols of all the ones that love us in our life.
And if you’re bald, it just means that a crazy amount of people love you and your head just can’t handle it.
Each Rice Krispie is a seed that is much like the egg that impregnates and a bowl of Rice Krispee seeds is that of semen and when you eat a whole bowl, those seeds go into your dreams and that night you either birth Snap,Crackle or Pop.
See if you ever eat a bowl of that cereal the same again.
Don’t ever lose your imagination for it is a detrimental part to staying young.
That’s how I imagine it to be anyways.
I want to tell you that the chimney here at my Dads, caught on fire the day after we closed our doors. You used to be a firefighter. You would have known just what to do.
I want to tell you that I looked for the Easter Hat you made last year for Z. And that I couldn’t find it, no matter where I looked.
I want to tell you how badly I want a doggy like the one we bought together.
I want to tell you how much you taught me.
To tell you that when I openened my chocoalate yesterday, a piece of chocolate shot up and hit me in the eyebrow.
I want to tell you that I have a cardinal clipped to my desk. Your favourite bird.
I want to say that I go in waves of happy and of sad. That I get bold with my confidence, telling myself,” I’ll find someone else, I’ll find someone else’. And then get whooshed into a whelmy sadness ocean,’ you were everything, you were everything I needed.’
I want to tell you that I didn’t do the big thing that you think I did. You won’t believe me, but everyday, I want to tell you that.
I want to tell you that I finally finished reading the book I got from the librairy with you in October last year.
I want to tell you that I’ve stuffed all my lingere in the back of my bottom dresser drawer and as I put them in there I said outloud, ‘ won’t be needing these anymore- not until you want me back’.
I want to tell you that the visual of your eyes is locked into my head and it pummels up my heart sometimes and pops out of my eyes.
I want to tell you that I still am very close to you. That you’re with me everywhere I go.
I want to tell you all these things you wouldn’t believe, but that are the beautiful gut truth.
I want to tell you that the shirt you gave me that last day, is now in a plastic ziplock bag beside my bed and I smell it everyday. It is the last thing I smell before I go to sleep.
I want to tell you that I keep looking for your truck to pass by my work.
I want to tell you that I took a picture of your license plate the day I dropped it off at the repair shop. So if ever there was a look alike truck, I’d be able to tell it was you.
I want to tell you that I walked by the tree we climbed together on our first hangout. And cried.
At the same time.
I want to tell you what Z says about you and how it always makes me tear up.
I want to tell you that my heart is full of you. That looking for anyone else is so far from what I want to do or am in the position to do.
I want to tell you that I have a 400 dollar ring on my dresser I bought in February for you. I want to tell you that I’m going to return it; not just because now is not a good time, but because I found one that you will love more.
I want to tell you that we’re supposed to be together.
But you already know that.
Life, we’re all doing it.
Some of us are doing it well, good, better, terrible.
I sometimes wonder whether the bad people out there, know they are bad people.
I didn’t know.
Until I had my heart broken.
Well, no. The thing is. I think I kinda had little bits flung at me throughout my life but I was so good at denying, ignoring, changing the subject to something else, that I never fully felt the impact or embraced the fact that I wasn’t being nice.
I’m sure I’m not the only one.
I was so good at manipulating my thoughts. I’m a nice person, but I abused other peoples emotions. That’s one of my biggest faults. WAS. I should say.
Since I’ve been on the other end of the rope, which really has only been a month and a half, I’ve learned through feeling like absolute crappola, that I was a friggen meanie.
I was mean to my best guy friends.
I always told myself, ” I’m not gonna be like a girl and hold in all my emotions and not tell them straight up that I’m not going to date them and let them hang onto that hope for pretty much 5 years and and… ” but I was EXACTLY that.
Like, what the heck. I don’t really know how that happened? I guess I just jumped on that train without realizing it, and kept going with it because it was making ME feel good.
I’m a selfish person. I’ve learned THAT over the years. So that’s something I intend to work on.
let’s stop being mean Jenny Dot.
That’s only gonna be a terrible attempt at living a full life.
That’s like E. On the empty.
And I don’t care to hear a ‘ beep beep, ding ding’ every km I’m closer to stalling out.
I have posted the above only a few minutes ago and once posted I had thoughts that pressed against my brain skull and said, ” Yo, everyones’ life is lived on different standards and we all have our own opinion and idea on what a life well lived or a life well not, is. Every individual do have their problems which in turn changes there position on decisions, on actions, on things we see, but do not see beyond. In saying this after my post, I’d just like to conclude that to me, how a life is lived includes many many factors. I could be living the worst choiced life in the eyes of another.
A life well lived is a life of purpose.
A life well lived is a loving, friendly, nice to people life.
A life well lived is of happiness and not of harming others.
A life well live…. and it can go on and on.
Living is learning.
As long as you are living, you are learning of yourself, about others, about nature, about new, about old.
We have a heart, mind and a conciousness that gives shovels to our heart arms,
so that we can dig deep into our self.
Maybe a life well lived is learning the most we can about ourselves as a human being.
The complexities, the intricices, the simplicities.
Or maybe it’s hugging every single experience in the gut,
and saying, ‘ Yo, You made me cry and drink for two weeks straight, but I learned from you and I’m here on out, a better person because of you. Thanks man!’
Maybe just maybe,
living a life well lived is loving the life we’re choosing.
I just connected these two….
the last line of