Final Parts to Witch's Brew
Heaping teaspoons of restraint
Dash of instant gratification
Cup of superficial ness
I throw away restraint. restraint represents being confined. confined looks too much like conformity.
I like being stripped to the bare essentials. the parts of me that can't be marked off with an x; the parts of me that can't be piled together and clumped with the rest of the world
I throw away instant gratification. I'm tired of sprinting towards an exhilarating high only to be met with crashing lows.
I want the thrill to touch me like a feather against my skin. I want it to slide inside me like a lover's tongue and consume me like a candle's warmth. I want my body to become swollen with anticipation until it explodes with long lasting satisfaction…
..and I ain't talkin' about none of that new gum
Just want the feeling to resonate, tired of things, feelings, people that are fleeting.
I seek concreteness in a world of sheer.
Is that too much to ask?
Or not enough?
Being someone special to me (friend/loved one/etc.) is more than riding with me when things are going well; getting your party on when you know I'm footing the bill. I do the things because I love to do them, and I do them when I am able to do them.
It goes deeper, and everyone can't do deep.
Some people don't even read my blogs anymore because they are getting too long. They want one-liners, funny videos, jokes, quizzes, etc.
And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that. That's just not always how I am, and I don't really write for public opinion.
I just write because if it stays inside me, then I feel ripped out. I feel inverted…I feel like I can't breathe.
But saying all that to say this:
I have been distant, but I have needed to be. To try to come to terms with what is going on around me, walking a fine line between screaming, crying, and numbness.
M has been pretty sick. Those who know me on a closer scale know what I speak of, but for those of you who don't, this is not the time for me to expel on the situation. All I can tell you is that she's going through the process to get the help she needs, and it is a very hard process.
This process has involved a decrease in the number of hours she works at the store, and I have been filling in the gaps.
And for those of you who think I should be happy because I'm making more money, I don't have time to enjoy it because I'm always working or trying to squeeze in enough sleep. Or trying to figure out where I'm going to get the adrenalin to carry on the next day.
Also, for those of you who think that I've been anti-social, I just haven't had the time to be social. I barely have time to even pick up the phone and when I do I have to answer questions pertaining to the store because the other two guys aren't quite up to snuff or speed to handle it effectively on their own just yet.
So for those of you who measure friendship by the amount of contact one maintains, I guess you have already kissed me goodbye.
And this is the reality that I can't get too mad at. It's all about whether those people really understand who I am and how my schedule is.
This probably makes me seem like I don't care. On the contrary, I am a very caring person--perhaps too caring. I don't have enough love, caring, and consideration to go around in excess…not anymore. Hard enough loving myself from day to day.
Hard enough to have the strength to be strong for those around me. All of these changes…and although I know in the end, everything will work out, right now, it's like driving to get to a smooth road and all you see is gravel with tiny granules of glass.
I also don't have the privacy I used to….M and I have a roommate as of two weeks ago. She's going through tough times, so we extended our home to help her out. And it's not that I don't like her because she is very exuberant; she has a very dynamic personality and is quite likeable. She's borderline clingy…more so to M than me, and although the friendship they have is great--I feel like I'm just observing; I'm not a part of it even though when friendship is talked about, it's always talked about in the key of "we."
And when I'm writing, trying to get clean, etc…I never know when she's going to pop up; when she's going to have someone with her…and it wouldn't be so bad if the upstairs was mainly confined rooms….
But think of our upstairs as a big ass studio type space…with a side room, so of course it's nicer to just live in the studio space…but you can hear everything….every step, every sound…everything.
Guess the point I'm trying to make is that between work exhaustion, emotional exhaustion, I have to deal with this lovable human being that is exhausting my moments of privacy…giggles.
And the fucked up thing is that she and I have so much in common--it's just so damn awkward…but I'm trying.
Although it's trying….
Just keep me in your thoughts and prayers.
I'll be around when I can.