?

Log in

< back | 0 - 10 |  
dejavudu [userpic]

with wet lashes

December 29th, 2016 (12:00 pm)

I can tell I'm losing my grip because I find myself wondering, "what would a normal person do? How would a normal person react?" I'm so undone, behaving appropriately requires concentration.

dejavudu [userpic]

A fresh twist of the knife.

November 17th, 2016 (11:08 am)
current song: Rachmaninoff's Vocalise - Joshua Bell

Lamplighter has a barista more charming than average. This morning I went in with my heart breaking anew over my nineteenth attempt to extinguish our flame when the lovely barista asked me, "Were you in here on a date the other day?" She'd seen us at the table by the door. I didn't know how to answer, as always when someone suggests we're together.
"Who can say?" I responded, "That was my paramour."

dejavudu [userpic]

(no subject)

October 25th, 2016 (04:55 pm)

Dear Eljay,
I've noticed recently that sometimes I reach with my left and it doesn't hurt.

dejavudu [userpic]

(no subject)

March 20th, 2016 (09:02 pm)
Tags: ,

It's weird how these things unfold. Friday was full of relief and elation after learning that Dad was going to survive and not only that but also be un-brain-damaged too!
Then yesterday I woke with the full weight of the sadness.. I'm hunkered down at home and don't want to see anyone but sooner or later my social circle will notice and every time I think of telling the girls I get a stab in my stomach that makes me wonder if I can keep this secret forever.

dejavudu [userpic]

That which doesn't kill you... is simply killing you very slowly.

December 3rd, 2015 (07:49 pm)

I don't know what I'm living for. I really don't. There's just no incentive in it. The last five years are all broken bones, infertility, getting laid off, having the jeep towed, incarcerated juveniles, psychotic breakdowns, failed initiative, scraping by, lethargy, food spilled on clothes... True joy is a thing of the past. I can scarcely remember it.

Adversity is supposed to make us stronger but the only life lesson I've learned is that God doesn't give any fucks. I really hope he's giving some fucks about someone. I mean truly. Someone out there had better be getting his attention because if he's abandoned all of us (which I guess is more likely) then he really is the uncaring bastard everyone says he is.

I know I'm supposed to find meaning in Kevin but if that's all there is, I'm not sure I'll make it. This must be what Silvia Plath felt. She had children and they weren't enough to make life tolerable to her either. If Kevin is my only reason to continue, then might I grow to resent him?

The best life had to offer is already behind. What can possibly be worth letting it beat me up for a few more decades until I finally develop whatever degenerative condition will kill me?

As I sit here the only reason I can find for not punching my ticket early is that it would be hardship for other people. But that's temporary, right? Won't time heal all wounds? I suppose I'll know when the next tragedy strikes because I still have some things left to lose.

Adversity is supposed to make you stronger but it's made me weak. It's made me bitter. And so very, very tired. It's aged me. But mostly it's made me weak. And tired. I collapse over every terrible thing now. I used to be strong but that was before.

dejavudu [userpic]

Resistance is futile.

November 4th, 2015 (12:28 pm)
contemplative

current location: another windowless cave
current mood: contemplative

With each sneeze my cranium grew thicker and I rolled my head around the desk until I could no longer bear the florescent lighting and trudged out into the unseasonably warm sun. Sitting on a bench in a speck of a park I took off my sweater and transfixed on a majestically hued tree shimmering in the breeze, showering the sidewalk in its vibrant jetsam.

The fingers of my mind poked around, pressing there and here in their usual diagnostic search for the cause of its familiar ennui. It’s been remarkably easy to settle into this new job where hardly anything is asked of me. My day-to-day is so untroubled, I wonder why the overriding adjective recurring now as a dog sniffs his way across the lawn is “transitional.” Why would I feel I’m in a transitional phase if I’ve already proven myself incapable of affecting life changes? Probably because I’m still a goodly distance away from accepting my current station so a more apt picture would be that I am the hard shell bug rolled onto her back and waving her legs in the air except that I don’t feel that I’m waving very vigorously. I think I’ll have a nap and maybe try to roll over again next year. My half-hearted, can-do, American ambition is no match for my expert-level, good Buddhist acceptance. Often it seems a sin to want for more than one has but that flicker of aspiration is always just quietly pestilent enough to remain at lifelong odds with my contentment dharma. Balls.

dejavudu [userpic]

An observation.

October 8th, 2015 (05:08 pm)
current mood: reflective
current song: The Zombies (in my head)

Infertility has both damaged and developed my friendships. When my closest girlfriends became moms, implementing 10PM bedtimes and all else the change of lifestyle entails, those formerly effortless relationships began to require just a bit of concentration. And the deepening friendships are those with my dearest who drink too much since learning we'll all continue living in our 20s in perpetuity.

dejavudu [userpic]

(no subject)

May 24th, 2015 (09:54 am)
discontent

current mood: discontent
current song: The Be Good Tanyas - Waiting Around To Die

This morning my feed is split by my parenting friends watching the OBX sunrise with their toddlers, and the childfree friends who spend every non-working moment getting and staying fucked up.
There must be more to life. Ah, there must be.
With the knowledge setting in anew that I am unlikely to ever be a mother, I find myself smoking more cigarettes and taking less care with hazardous chemicals... What does it matter now to preserve my health? I woke today with a putrid toxicity: sick of my dead-end job -- sick of "socializing"... aren't there any more choices? I wish I could write. Or produce anything. I know I should've written that book by now. Or that other book... Life just doesn't have much to offer at this age and in the wise words of Townes Van Zandt, I'll keep waiting around to die.

dejavudu [userpic]

(no subject)

May 21st, 2015 (01:49 am)
current mood: Pointless

A year ago I told my friends that we were giving up on becoming parents but it wasn't true. What was true then was that Kevin was going to undergo hormone treatments. They were unsuccessful so now we're really giving up.

I'm coming to terms with the likelihood that I will die alone. Frankly it's egotistical to hope for any better. From time to time it occurs to me that all of my possessions, my writings and my life's accumulations that seemed so important will one day go to a landfill but it is for the best. As Paul Newman used to say, we should all aspire to slip on and off this world as quietly as possible. But still, it is difficult sometimes. If I seem a bit reckless to you, it's because most days I have nothing to lose.

dejavudu [userpic]

Together somehow, tied with silver spring

May 18th, 2015 (11:41 am)
content
Tags:

current mood: content
current song: The Sundays

I want to say something about what this weekend has done for me but it's difficult to not overstate the issue and become hyperbolic.

I've grown to hate that expression "God will never put on you more than you can handle." It simply isn't true. Life can and will get overwhelming. Some people don't survive hopelessness and despair. Although it isn't logical to believe that one's trajectory can become a roller coaster that only goes down and never up, it is a very real sensation.

The most defeating element of the last year has been the cumulative result of my collected traumas. For so long there hasn't been a glimmer of excitement or optimism, a shred of anything positive to cling to. Only the crushing truth that life was never going to get any better. My roller coaster had been plummeting so long, I hadn't a reason to get out of bed for weeks and months on end. I was surviving, but not living.

Upon waking yesterday and later, while going about my day, several times I nearly wept from unadulterated happiness. I think it would be naive to hope that my curse has lifted but for the first time in as long as I can remember, the rain gave pause and charcoal clouds revealed patches of crystalline blue sky. I folded the weekend up small and put it in my inside pocket, next to those other three perfect moments where they remain pure and ever-protected, sacrosanct, untouched even by time itself.

< back | 0 - 10 |