7/21/2011:: Heat Wave

This heat is a bubble that is keeping my thoughts trapped in. Hard to breathe. Hard to think. Hard to move. Nothing escapes me except sweat. Exhaling cigarettes is displeasurable. Talking seems exhausting. The only thing that feels good is taking things in: wine, water, criticism. I'm soaking everything up like a sponge, and I'm swelling up like a god damn balloon, I swear.

What most people don't get about me is that I'm constantly trying to communicate something. Even when alone, I'm sending out flags and messages to the outside-- usually cryptic, though painfully planned and executed with precision. This might sound pretty standard, but it's much, much worse for me than anyone realizes. I don't say a word without some sort of angle. Also, it's important to know that I am very bad at geometry.

I feel like the spaces of happiness and productivity are very tiny overlapping "places" in a person's psyche. It's very possible one day to stumble into this space for a brief moment... clean your room like a madwoman with Billie Holiday on volume 27... and stumble out just as quickly, hit like a brick by your usual malaise. It's only when you're really tuned in are you able to balance on one foot in that space for a long period of time. The tiniest push from an outside force, and you could fall right out back into the abyss.

I'm tiptoeing around people right now, pushing off of walls and ideas to find the zone where everything feels balanced. The problem is, I keep trying to pull other people into that space with me because I've been feeling so lonely. One person in particular, if I was going to attempt to be honest about it. I'm finding, however, it's a place that only has room for one.

7/16/11:: I'm trying to outsmart my own heart.

7/12/11:: A meditation on prosophobia and dependency

Have you ever had to fight two opposing forces and push through to the center? (The dark center where you can't see the ground or feel the walls.) Both of my arms are stretched out in front and I'm reaching forward for something on which to stabilize, but everything is shifting and getting lost before I can grab on.

I meditate on my thoughts during the afternoons. I whisper mantras to myself in the morning when I sit alone in the park before work. You can endure this. It can all be endured.

Things were not so complicated just a short while ago. I had orientation to my surroundings– to the space between myself and other people. I've been a loner for a long time, and the only thing that puzzled me then was my general numbness and lack of emotion. Now I find feelings tucked away in every crevice. They creep up on me at the most unexpected moments, and I find myself overly sensitive to the opinions and actions of others. Say the word and I'll buy you dinner. I'll drop my plans. I'll rearrange my outlook. I'll make room for you and your needs because I don't seem to have any. Before you know it, my needs are one-in-the-same, indistinguishable from yours. I need to be needed. I need to have a clear space in their territory. I need things that are irrational, illogical, immeasurable, and most importantly… incapable of being stuffed into a tiny box on my calendar.

What a radical left turn.

I have melted and reformed as an entirely different animal. Lack of emotion replaced with hypersensitivity and dependency on the very same people that isolated me with their poor understanding of my condition.

Uncompromising waves and undercurrents and moodswings and fear.

Anxiety builds and goals get reprioritized and/or tossed to the wayside when you say the word.

Come closer. But get the fuck away from me.

And one-by-one I drowned all of the people I had been.

Things are shifting all around me. People are making drastic moves, trying to catch my attention, but I find myself even less interested and distant than before. Move away. Start a fight. Make a vow. I can't even see you anymore. Talk about tunnel vision...

Sometimes I wonder if it's even possible for me to give any meaningful part of myself to another person anymore: lover or friend. Maybe the compliments and laughs and fucks and drinks are all that's left on the table. Even when I force myself open, I find very little is released, and usually it is only the surface wounds that I bother to lick clean. I always say that the right people will find the real me; they'll "change my mind" or crack me without my even being aware of it. I have started to ponder the possibility that everyone finds themselves approaching a closed door. Is that my problem? Or do I just continue to insist that they are just too stupid to try the knob? I'm not sure.

Little by little, I shut down entire layers of feeling, former habits, and relationships. It seems like every other day a former version of myself dies. Pretty soon I will only be in the present, and I'll be the girl made of mirrors and glass. Reflecting everything, including the sun. Look at me and you'll only see yourself, exactly what everyone really wants to see anyway.

This all sounds very bad I'm sure, but it's not.

It is what it is.

4/25/11:: Insanity

Where is the center? Find it if you can. Lock eyes with it. Own it.

The body: it is my most prized possession and my greatest conquest.

Sculpt the temple which houses your brain and heart, and their strength expounds exponentially upon itself.

Euphoria! -- I am a baby again.

Babies enter this world without fear despite being on their own.

3/21/11:: Velvet Curtains

In case any of you were worried, I am not dead... nor is this blog. We are merely preparing for a grand reveal, which is still a month away.

It involves a new body, new attitude, and maybe even a new l o c a t i o n.

A lot less white noise these days-- more ukuleles.

3/2/11:: Just to see what is

This video/song pretty much embodies my entire [mental] life right now: