Lindisfarne II

I fuck things up in my head so bad and twist ideas and realities into fantasies.
Think too hard about every single little thing.
Think too hard, that my exterior has no chance to catch up.
Sometimes I make my own skin crawl with my thoughts.
Sometimes I think I ruin myself a bit.
Sometimes I think I soil my own mind.
Sometimes I think I live two lives.
The me inside my head and the real me whom I neglect.

Come with me, up on the rooftop.

I'm trying to find Inspiration.
Desperately trying to find Inspiration.
She's a coy creature, she is.

I look for her.
Looking when I listen to that gentle song on repeat,
when I bury my nose in my favorite Roald Dahl story,
when I stare out into that damn beautiful sky everyday.

I'll find her hidden in the crevasses of the wrinkles of their grins,
in the sweet air that passes through an open screen door on a summer night,
in the excited energy that surges within clusters of conversations amongst my youthful company.

And then I let her take me.
Allow her to envelop all of me,
Gently submerged in a pool brimming with the sweet summer air.
She's gooey and sweet, slathering my mind,
dripping from the tiny corners of my imagination.

And I'll have her once more and we'll share happy thoughts,
and breathe easy,
and twinkle with excitement that comes with her new ambitions and fantasies..
Until that twinkle starts dwindling.

It's always a waning farewell, but always met with the determination to find her again.
Over and over again!

Sway with the Pacific.

All day I wish I could float in the ocean...
float on my back,
close my eyes,
smell the salt and the air,
sunshine shining through my sealed eyelids,
caress the brisk ocean water,
the salt water gently cleansing random little cuts on my body,
sway with the pacific...
Dunk my head in,
stay under,
feel the waves above my head swish me around a bit,
wade up to match the flow of the current,
FEEL SO ALIVE.

Mushaboom

My head is buried somewhere far up my ass.
Feeling so finally in tune, instead, self inflicted stupidity.

I feel happy.
I feel sad.

The grass was a cushion beneath our heavy heads,
The dogs were tangled in their leashes and legs,
The cars were casually whizzing past the speed limit,
The conversation was amiably honest and short and sweet,
We were out of place, but we were harmonious there.

The chairs were sticky beneath our summer thighs,
The company was crowded into booths and bar stools,
The margaritas went unnoticably too strong down the many throats,
The chatting was uncomfortably nostalgic and funny and empty,
We should have been happy, but we wouldn't let ourselves.

:0)
:(

Vibrancy

The weather is vibrant today!

I took time to skim through and read parts of my blog posts and I realized I'm a huge prick.
All I do is whine about everything and I always leave out the wonderful things in my life.
And that's ridiculous because I'm fortunate in so many ways.

Something good will always come our way, and instead of sifting through to find things to whine about, I'm sifting for the wonderful.

Field of Ferns

Impressionable
I think that's who I am.
Just who I am.
This was meant to be a burst of inspiration.
I want to get lost in a beautiful, beautiful place.
Smile while looking up at the baby blue.
I'd be finally free

We could finally breathe.....
...
....
.
..
..
.
.

Exhale.

Full of shapeless emotion!
I think I've managed again.

But for how long ?

I'm tired.

The familiar sensation of such extreme tired-ness is coming back.
I've realized that when you start feeling nothing,
you kind of just forget everything.
Either that, or you don't remember anything.
Chunks of your life just pass by and you can't remember how you spent them.
Not really anyway.
I think that I'd rather feel sad than nothing.
You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness.
But I did wish I wouldn't feel so helplessly tired all the time.

I feel like shit.

Update.

Many things got fucked up along the way.
There was a thousand pound penny that weighed down on my chest.
My horoscope stopped making sense.
So did my art.
I felt sick and blue. And yellow and green and red, too.
I still do.

Give me a sign

My
life
is
so
static.

I'm
waiting
for
the
big
moment
in
my
life,
but
I'm scared.


So,
so,
so
scared
that
it
will
never
happen.

S

O

C

I

O

P

A

T

H