Words under rugs

“No one ever wears this sweater except for me”
You told me the first time we met

So I put on the sweater when it was lying on my chair

Because
“you’re in
my castle
and I do what I want”

You smiled at my defiance

It was part of what made you fall in love with me

I became
the only person
allowed
to wear
that sweater

And I would wear it on me
the nights you were far
that I could not sleep
for the lack of the sound of your breath
warmth of your chest
skin against skin

I think of that now
as I imagine you sleeping
next to
someone else’s skin

Would she wear your sweater?
Would you let her, as I had
carved my shape into the sweater
carve her own shape into all the crooks that had been made for me?
or would you wince
and look down, preserving my memory
like some ancient Greek statue?

I pushed away the thought
but
it shoved back
it shoved back as my thoughts do

I thought of the century we live in
and how we’re still friends
and how what if there was ever a picture
somewhere across my screen
burned into my retinas
before I have a moment to react
of a familiar sweater
on someone else’s skin
wearing someone else’s smile
and your
arm
draped
across
her stolen-sweatered shoulders
like it was the most normal act in the world
and not an act of violence
in my savage mind

i would cry to my sister
“it was too soon
the rug was pulled from under me”
victimizing myself to a blue screen

so instead
i look at the rug under me
and
step
off
it

I will not stand on a doormat
and call it a prison

I face the once beautiful tapestry
now offensive
to my core
and I
r
o
l
l
it up into my past
place it next to my acceptance
and walk
into
forgiveness.

Sometimes, the path to forgiveness is long.
Sometimes
it’s more of a

long
uphill
hike.

But it’s harder still
to not
walk it
at all.

 

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The past 3 days of my life have been like a Spice Girls song. In which all I can think about is what I want,  what I really really want. 

Anxiety makes me think about the microscopic reasons of human suffering, which also further my anxieties. Absolutely hilrarious cycle. 

But how can you live on this Earth and be a part of humanity and not be a minimum amount of stressed out? It’s gotten to the point where, if you’re paying even remotely attention, then there’s no possible way to be not anxious. 

But learning to realistically look at situations with healthy doses of skepticism, wonder, and awareness heeds the lesson of how to accept anxiety. 

Which is a really cute thing to write. Not so cute to do. 

And the question was asked so many times. “What do you want?” And i wrote about it over and over again. And in all of that, in listening to the many voices while also listening to the silence, I heard the word. Of what it was I wanted. A simple word that doesn’t seem to have a million strands and threads and strings and cables and wifi waves. What I want, what I really really want, is what we all want. 

Connection. 

My mental GPS feels even more out of whack than usual. 

For me it’s about connection with self and connection with others and a healthy dose of both. 

I am a fan of every single way of connecting and detachment doesn’t hurt as much when you still feel connected. 

Maybe some of us just have more cables than others, or maybe something else. What I know is that right now, I feel like a loose canon. 

Take that as you will, but loose canons are connected to nothing. 

Malta January 2017

Judgement day

I think judging people is so natural and and an important part of how we communicate, express, bond, and care for ourselves. I think we just don’t use it in a way that’s always benefitial to us. Mostly, we do it to divide ourselves and look down on others to pretend we’re better which of course no one is, really because the only true reality is based on perspective and that means your crapshoot opinion is just as valid as my crapshoot opinion in this joined game of civilization. 

I judge myself much too muchly. I judge my mother the same amount. I don’t work enough on my compassion and trust close to myself, though I gift it to others quite freely.

I think the greatest wisdom is listening to others and I’ve become better but I’d like to improve on that too. 

Being in a capsule with strangers and your family where you’re pretty much together 24/7 is weird. Not just anybody can do that, and given who I am and who my family is I’m particularly proud of us, of myself, of my brother. I have some really good feedback that naturally occurred through my exchange of how I’d like to improve in my life with who I am in reflection to others. Through efficient judging. 

The cruise journey is coming to an end. By now, I have come to understand that life itself is constant transformation. Does everyone feel that way? I don’t know. But for me it’s the case. I am always going througb some kind of transformative experience always. It’s an intense experience but sometimes i feel like I may be catching up. 

There are moments where it all feels bright and alright.

And on this last night of this cruise trip,  as I reflect back on every delectable favorite detail spent with my family, and vibrate with pleasure at the sound of the ocean and the feel of the ship soaring through the waves, with plant wisdom, it feels pretty bright, and pretty alright.

Sicily January 2017