WTF? Did that just happen?

As I meander around my mind and read back on old posts, I come across this one where in I was walking through some anxiety. It was written almost a year ago to the day (it was written exactly one year to the date that I will find out if I did or did not win a short story contest, but that's a different story). 

In this post, I ask the universe to reveal itself:

What is there that I should know and I will walk through it. I will lay down my cards, forgive my hand, and... meet the storm. 
I would rather that. I would rather there be something rather than nothing.
"There is a move," I hear or make up that I heard. There is a fundamental breakdown in my foundation - a blessing. A longing to feel real.

 "There is a move"???? I remember being unsure if I heard it or made up what I wanted to hear (it's always safer to assume that one just made up what they wanted to hear). The next post I write after that marks the first time I see the Greek in a while, wherein he makes his first slight of hand move, which is the beginning of the breaking of my foundation.

After that day, momentum continues slowly until October of that year when the door gets kicked in and my life as I knew gets real. I get the life sweetly fucked back into me (hurrah!)

I re-read this post after, once again, sitting quietly and asking the universe to reveal itself, as it pertains to this desire for love, passion, and elevation.

After reading the post and seeing that, um, I think the universe actually spoke to me, I asked if it had anything to say today.

I heard, or made up that I heard, "He is coming" and then I heard or felt, "2 months."

So, I thought, I should just write that shit down.

For the record, I don't think it's the Greek, I mean, I have no idea whatsoever, I'm just sayin' for the record, I'm not actually holding on to that.

If he is coming, I should get ready (I have no idea what that means either, but it has something to do with getting on with it).

I am always a little mystified by how we are given answers but because they don't happen in a day or a week, we don't believe in it or we forget. But when you look back, you simply see that it really does take time for life to unfold, for things to pass. It takes a gloriously sweet amount of time.

Masticating Graciousness

Namas-fucking-te. Asshole.

Good morning, world and universe. How are you? You seem to be resting on my back like a... shit, I don't know, but you're there, hovering.

Maybe it's that your like a child waiting for a pony ride, prodding me to go, whispering in my ear "play with me."

And all I want to do is sit in my pajamas and give up or in.

I hurt (or am uncomfortable) somewhere and it has set off an infection (perhaps I have infected bed sores) of sorts in my heart/soul, you can taste the metallic bitterness when you chew on it.

The beginning of failure is sitting on my shelf of accomplishments, right beside those unfinished sculptures, all in its shiny new glory, like a newborn goblin slick with birth. I'm almost too tired, too overwhelmed to say Fuck You, Goblin.

Fuck you, Goblin. Shove it up your ass.

You're a fucker, you know that? Don't fucking look at me - for you, I don't exist. It doesn't matter what I do or don't do, it's none of your god damn business, and it does't reflect success or failure, only my state of mind at this particular intersection. So get the fuck off my lawn, stop pissing in my garden and tearing up the plants. You're an asshole.

And you can tell your boss, or your "creator"  to shove it, too. I don't care how fucking big he is, I can take him. I'll spit in his mouth as soon as he tries to start talking. I'm done with your guys' shit.

GET THE FUCK OFF MY BACK!

Except you, Universe. If you're gentle, you can stay. But don't be that annoying kid, okay? Be something sweet that elevates me (and I will try not to narrow down the possibilities of how that will manifest (even though it's really hard to not... you know, imagine stuff) itself).

Now, can we all just get along? Jesus, you guys are exhausting.

Free to Be

This is me trying to walk through this new life I've started. It feels so weird with no end in sight. Will I feel congruent with the world again one day soon?

Or will this continue?

I have to breath and let go. Calm down and relax. Trust and be quiet. I need to remove myself from some aspect of self, I'm not sure what that is yet.

It's something about closing my doors, going in more than I go out. I need to hide not expose.

I need to get to work. I need to put blinders on and focus.

I must surrender. There is a wild horse inside of me and it's caged by my misdirection. It's going crazy. It wants to run, not from but to, in a straight line as far as the eye can see.

It wants to be free.

All is Well

But it's not.

Not really. It's full and empty. It has sharp angles. It had them there and it has them here, where I'm alone with only the hope of something more. Maybe someday.

I've honestly, as of yesterday, considered meaningless sex. Maybe I could do it. Maybe I just need to spend this extra energy.

So, who do I find and where do I find them?

this is an empty world sometimes

Stupid Kavorka

I made the mistake of remembering his brown eyes looking lustfully urgent into mine, holding me still with him.

How often does one find that? Where it feels like equal lust. Equal passion fucking.

Does he just make that where ever he goes, does everyone?

I kissed that other fella to see if the sparks would be the same. They were not even close.

Why did his chemistry have to match mine, this would be so much easier if it hadn't. I really didn't expect it to, I expected to find him very awkward on my skin. I expected to run away, nervously laughing with oh my god, this is ridiculously silly thoughts in my head.

Maybe it was one sided on my end, that was bound to happen one day. Maybe for him, it was not that different from all of his experiences.

When he said, "I think we would make a good couple" while, you know, hammering away at me from behind, was he just speaking out of lust in the moment? Or was that his actual truth in him (because, given the age difference, I am not entirely sure about that and as such, would never have said anything like that) that he doesn't want to look at, because that seems like an awfully strange thing to say as a heat of the moment statement.

Bah, it doesn't matter. He likely envisioned that at some point and then, like myself, saw the error of reality in that vision.

Anywhoo, they were lovely moments, and it feels a shame to let them disappear, but whattya gonna do.

Fuck you, Kavorka

Unstuck?

I think I am. Unstuck that is. I was fixated like a mother fucker on that experience I had, and it felt like he was contributing, ever so slightly, to the mystery of it.

If you ask my intuition, he was. If you ask my immediate reality, it doesn't fucking matter because even if he was, it was just a teeny, tiny little game of chance.

Once must value oneself in these times and decide just want games we want to play. I think I've gathered enough intel to know that this one is a) not for me and 2) out of my league.

Sure, life seems a little bit more lack lustre for the gap of what once was; it's like a endless stream of droll, grey  traffic, slowly edging along in a scene of some post apocalyptic movie, but I'm sure that will pass?

I'm sure that eventually I will turn my vehicle around and bust shit up.

Dear Vagina, He's Just Not That Into You

Honestly, I don't know if it's me or him. And the fact that I cannot let go is annoying the fuck out of me.

Why can I not let go. Why does it feel like there are so many underlying things not being said if that is not true?

Once upon a time and had an inkling of something that seemed so absurd to me. I had a niggling feeling that my then husband was using drugs - not my usual go-to assumption. He was acting strange, strange phone calls etc. Why didn't I think he was cheating on me? That is my thing, assume that they're cheating. But I didn't, I felt like maybe he was using, even though it seemed highly absurd, given certain circumstances.

And now, like a dog with a bone, I can not shake this feeling that there is more than meets the eye in my current situation. No matter how far I try and throw that bone, it lands at my feet like a fucking boomerang.

Back when I had a feeling my husband was using, I pushed it out of my mind as ridiculous, which soon spurned anxiety that my world was not real. I'm not saying that if I try and ignore someone's lack of motivation to be upfront with me is going to through me down a spiral - but, I'm saying something. Like, maybe I'll spontaneously explode one day. Such is my need to touch real things, thoughts, and feelings.

I swear to g.o.d that I keep trying to surrender this, it is completely out of my power to do anything about it - I know this. I am trying so hard to ignore the boomerang effect, but I keep tripping over it and landing on my face.

In the same vein that someone can no longer care for ice cream:

HE DOES NOT CARE FOR ME. HE DOES NOT CARE FOR ME. HE DOES NOT CARE FOR ME. HE DOES NOT CARE FOR ME rinse and repeat. 

Please let this get through to my head and heart (and vagina).

(ps: then husband was most definitely using. Go intuition.)

Yours truly.