It is much too easy in the early days of summer to sit on my porch for the bulk of the day just smoking and staring into my phone. A luxury denied in the winter months when we would bundle up in blankets and dare to ask the question, how many hoodies is too many hoodies?
Days where it was just too much so I sequestered myself to the top right quadrant of my bed and blew smoke through an exhaust fan. Those were the bad days. Not because of the weather, but because I couldn’t get out of bed. And I hated myself for stinking up my room, my sanctuary, for not having the energy to move beyond the pulling of a cigarette from the pack, the click of a lighter, the click of the remote as I scoured Netflix for some semblance of hope or understanding or even just distraction.
I get very few days alone. Where I am not working or running here or there for pay or for friends. The 4pm dread on the nights I have to go to work. Where did the day go, do I really have to go to work? I do.
One dancer plays a dubstep set between 7 and 8. Always the same first song. Roughneck Bass. Which repeatedly and aggressively begs the question…are you ready for the roughneck bass?
No, no I am not because I know it means I am stuck in this musty prison, with its uneven floors and carpet held down with duct tape for at least 6 more hours. That I couldn’t possibly be drunk enough this early in the night for the stage not to hurt my knees. My first show looming on the horizon or freshly done and I rarely nail that one.
That up there is not what I intended to write today, but my mind went to whatever place it goes and I just typed. But it’s a metaphor for how life has been going. Same old same old over and over. Something has to give and a lot of things have to change.
What I meant to write today was a scathing sermon peppered with quotes from Revelations about how I am tired of only being seen for what I am in my absence.
“Write, therefore, what you have seen: both what is now and what will take place later.” Revelations 1:19
I do that. But I never know what is going to happen after they leave. I’ve tried to write my own future.
Sometimes they come back.
Why am I only acknowledged as a good girl in retrospect?
Did you not see the things I did before I stopped doing them?
Did you have magical house elves cooking and cleaning and sucking your dick after a long day before I got there? Did I accidentally take them with me and now you’re all alone?
Fuck, if we are telling truths, I have written all of this before.
I repost articles to my Facebook page almost every day. Found this gem and realized it was about what I wanted to say today. https://www.ourladyoflustandgrace.com/step-up-or-stay-down.html
Luckily May 25th heralded a massive cosmic shift. And I felt it. Things that have remained redundant and the same finally lost their glimmer and gloss and I saw them for what they were. Redundant as the word redundant is itself.
It’s all in here and she says it better than I ever could.
New Earth you say? Sounds lovely. For years now it’s all been a lot of Same Same.
I’ve been doing it too. A snake biting my own tail, round and round. Thinking I let go, thinking the patterns changed but it’s just a perfect circle. I always end up back where I started. Even rollercoasters begin and end at the same place.
Article after articles about my ghosts wherein I resurrect them or they stand up and dance on their own. Skeletons boogying out of whatever closet they locked themselves in. I didn’t put them there.
Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. Revelations 2:4
Maybe I should hold grudges, but I don’t. I don’t have an on/off switch.
Had an interesting conversation with Wolfling a few weeks back wherein he said “I’m sorry, just sometimes I go dark.” And I replied, “It’s fine, I understand who and what you are.”
I know babe, and I don’t hate you for it. Whether or not I want to subject myself to how that makes me feel is an entirely different thing.
Probably not.
I think a huge part of my ego/psyche is still 4 years old. Not realizing that I exist to people when I am not there. Quiet, shy and invisible. So when I get told someone was speaking of me or thinking about me, or when they come back I glow from the acknowledgement. It makes me feel like I exist. I do often wonder how others see me.
…a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. Revelations 12:1
Maybe.
Maybe someday they will tell me.
The ghosts of the past speak to all those who will listen after all.
Oh I listen. I hear them out and respond with as much kindness as I can muster. Which is a lot by the way.
When it comes to my exes, I chose them. I wanted them. I showed them. They were important to me.
So when he came back am I supposed to deny that I missed him?
I can’t. It’s not in my nature to lie, I don’t speak coy. Especially when it’s the big one, the one I really wanted. The one who changed my perception on how I should be treated and spoken to. The one who fucked me just right.
I suppose it is better to be lost and found than just lost and forgotten.
I am a good girl in retrospect. It is just what I am. Past present and future.
