mom posted this, so you know it's got some nuggatty goodness in it.
somewhere along the middle, i thought of Maria's co-worker.
blessings to you and yours.
~starting over


"Please" and "Thank You" are the two most important words in the communication process.
"Excuse me" and "Pardon me" are next.
Keep your promises. Do what you say you are going to do. Make it important to be a person of your word.
Rude is an example of your ignorance and lack of respect for the other person.
Apologizing is essential to survival. Nobody is perfect. We all make mistakes. Just own them and learn and get on with life.
Smoking is dumb, expensive and stinky. It affects everyone.
Courteous behavior goes a long way.
Appreciate what you have. One day you may find out that you have more than you ever imagined and wasted time complaining that it was not enough.
Sing whenever possible. It can get you through the hardest of times.
Stop the complaining. You may miss the most important minute of your day because you were grousing about the last ten minutes being not what you wanted them to be.
Keep your things picked up and orderly. Live simply. Less is more.
Never mind about what others have. They are not you and you are not they. You were made to be the individual that you are. One of a kind. Stay true to yourself. Always.

rehab expounded

i asked for this
a new beginning
a kind of cleansing beginning that might
lose me from the noose
of the yoke i have carried
for so many years



pride
self sustaining ego
an anger that kept everyone
just close enough to admire it
but too strong for anyone to
truly get close
without getting hurt




and so here i am
starting over
in life
in work
in school
in my home
in myself





every day
every hour
every moment



phone calls,
emails,
posts,
lectures,
clinicals,
shifts,
meals,
walks,
income,
expenses.





all an opportunity to start new
afresh
perhaps wizened
perhaps with the knowledge that this time


this time



this
time




i can make something fruitful
in a way i haven't been able to bear fruit
before.







...i will start anew with each step,
i will allow myself to die and be born again
with each breath.
let them only see my breathing.

....i want....

i have this habit
i'm not even always aware of

where i'll be walking
or stretching
or on the train
or an escalator


and i'll be thinking inside my head
like taffy being pulled apart
for whatever reason it is
one stretches taffy apart
over
and over
and over
and over
again



and it just eeps out




...i want...


and sometimes i don't even realize i'm saying it
out loud




but i do.





i.



want.




a clean start.
and i'm getting it.
like i've never had it given me before.

tonight i was hungry

for something below my belly button

for the mouth

the skin

the scent

the sweat

of someone who wants me

why does it feel

sometimes

like nobody wants me

[except kimmersk, if i were to get her drunk enough

and slick, if he weren't so head over head (sorry) for trish,

god bless her ever-loving soul]

step one....

this must be what rehab feels like...

i've never had the opportunity to start over so completely as i do right now.

i lost my job

so i started waiting tables

for a man who's entire life

revolves around that restaurant

and he's a good guy

but he lacks finesse

and kindness in his delivery

and it is grating

and i don't like to be talked to that way

and all he want to hear is

"okay"

and all i want to say is

"why are you so angry?"

but this isn't my place, either.

it's an ongoing theme.

something i've struggled with from the womb,

i am certain.

no insult to my mother,

lordisa knows she tried to set the right example.

lord knows she would say

"it's none of my business"

"i just keep my head down"

"i just do my job and go home"

god knows my father lived and still lives

most of his life

just like that.

...

and i didn't get it.

"why the f--k would you do that?"

"why can't you say something?"

"that is so retarded"

"i'm not going to just sit there"

"i've got to call it the moment it happens"

"i can't let it sit like that"

"i don't put up with the bull s--t"

2 shifts next week.

"okay."

school is only going so much better.

if it weren't for my clinical instructor

i'd be out on my ass.

really.

yet she coaches me like noone else has ever done

not that others haven't tried.

i've just been too bull headed to listen.

too

bull

headed.

i can't even eat.

i have no appetite.

i tried.

i can't afford the place i just moved into,

so i've decided to move out,

rather than find another job to

bust my ass and make something work

that isn't what i really want

and isn't what i need.

i'm waiting for my license from the state

to CNA.

so i'm downsizing.

on two shifts in a week.

what will i do with my time?

[find another job,

find another place to live,

find myself inside this

hot mess of a situation

and try to kindly

and gently

pull myself out.]

oh,

and pack.

and the part that hurt the most

tonight?

someone lied

when he realized i really liked him

and wasn't just being nice

or friendly

or coquettish.

yeah.

to me.

that's what really hurt the most.

[if you have any sense of compassion, dear family,

you will just let me say these things

without feeling like you had something to do with why i left

in the first place.

i left because i didn't feel like i belonged.

not because you didn't love me.

not because you didn't care.

not because i couldn't figure it out under the same roof

as you.

i left for me.

and i'm still figuring it out.

and that has to be enough

sometimes.

it has to be enough,

for now.

i love you.

yors [first]]

pele wonder...

i got your email tonight

i didn't even read it

not this time

all those times you would send a letter

an open letter

to lots of people

and i would sit there

swallow each word

lick each letter

each syllable

caress every idea that i could eek from the madness before me

i used to hold my breath for you to talk to me

i used to wait for you to call

i used to allow the way my name fell from your lips

haunt me

at all hours of the day and night

but this time?

tonight?

this time...

yeah. notsomuch.

[happy one hundredth postings, my lovelies]

defining moments

so i'm sitting there

in a box seat

at the ani concert and these words

began to come to me

i am an eccentric collection

a mosaic of moments

pieces of people i've known and loved and lost and let go

it wasn't that i forgot the songs

it was that i forgot that i knew them

forgot what they felt like

forgot what they got me through

and where i was when i heard them

when i shared them with others

when i played them over

and over

and over

and over

and over

in my very own ears when noone else was listening

watching them all and thinking

wow. they just don't get it.

huh.

i am the part of you you didn't realize you left behind

the haircut you forgot you needed

the piece that rubs off when you least expect it

the detail you forgot you told me that one night on the water

in the nighttime

under the sky

as ominous as chicken soup.

a patchwork quilt of clothes you wore out

gave away

discarded

ruined

favored

protected

left for me to put together in some other fashion.

a shadowbox of tschotchkies

knick knacks

bits and pieces

and pieces and strings

things and dust

and dust and things

trinkets and plastic and carved wood and twine

porcelain

empty containers

miscellaneous metal

and glue

and yet

there's room

here

for you.

in the middle

the beginning

penultimate

the end

may i never be completed

may you always find room here

i don't trust myself.

that's something my sister said to me a couple of weeks ago when we were having it out.

i told her i've been keeping people at a good arm's length for quite some time, but that i've been remarkably aware of it sense bk passed.

i said i didn't trust them.

other people.

they let me down.
they hurt me [literally and figuratively].
they didn't ever seem to know what to do with me.
and the one's that did? i don't seem to want them to want me that way...

i'm going to see ani tomorrow

the opening band sounds like this

which is getting me in the mood for this excursion.

i was worried about it.

i'm going with a good friend, i'd like to call an old friend.

but somethings have happened lately that rupture my trust

in our friendship

in his trust in our friendship

in my ability to pick good people with which to surround myself.

i'm a pretty picky mother fucker.

and maybe it's because i don't trust myself.

having to make the right choice

all of the time.

it's exhausting.

[wasn't it me who coined the phrase "if i weren't so responsible i'd be getting laid"...?]

what am i holding on to so tightly?

some phantasmagorical idea of myself?

some ideal that even if you don't like me you have to admit

i'm right.

even if i've been wronged,

i was right.

i did the right thing.

you can't blame me for this not working out.

i was right.

[sound familiar?]

...

how's that working out for you so far, eh kiddo?

so it's that i don't trust myself.

trust that i'm the one you want to know for more than a few years.

so i move.

trust that i'm not the one you want to wake up to.

so i go home.

or find away to not stay over.

or a reason to keep you at the far end of my arm, fucker.

over there.

just stay over there.

i say it's easier being alone.

i say at least i know how to do that.

i say that it scares other people away. [that i'm not afraid to be alone, and that there are those who are. and to someone who's afraid to be alone, my not being afraid scares them off. they have no ammunition. i have nothing to lose. they have nothing to bargain with. take it or leave it, bucko. i don't care.]

huh.

how's that working out for you, kiddo?

i can't be trusted.

i can't trust myself.

which leaves me

pensive

critical

alone.

[mom, if you're going to comment,

let it be on my use of the word

phantasmagorical.

please be gentle.

your daughter's not feeling to royal right now.

and it's not your fault.

i swear on my life.

you're the reason i make it anywhere i go.]