The Nature of THIS Beast

When trapped in the rain, maps proved futile. The windows were fogged beyond functionality. My pulse...booming. Breathing through the frantic blur, I pulled over and shifted into park. How can I do this? ME. Initially I called for assistance but concluded I COULD and would AND should do this. Just me. Cause at the end of this day and the next, that is my status quo....my salvation, my best friend. Despite that reality, these friends and this family of mine are something else that I couldn't do without. Such dependencies are frightening, but I acknowledge them wholeheartedly knowing they are the very connections that compel me to challenge this [temporarily?] stagnant existence. "I'm gonna apply to grad school for you....is that ok?" Definitely. HAaaa.....appreciate you, all of YOU. Shame I'm not reimbursed for every "You need to be in Chicago" or "You need to get the fuck out of that town," cause I'd have accumulated more than a few shekels. Aye.....I know, I know....trust me, this I know. Trapped am I in a confidence-lacking bubble of my own making. Oh and the time is coming, for certain. This fire will not be contained much longer. Fuel accepted.

Pushy readers appreciated, mostly. Encouragement and demands necessary. It is for me that I write and for you that I share these views and poetics and fears. Consciousness-raising shrinks the otherwise consuming world into a manageable beast. One-by-one I catalog these experiences and educational encounters. This is the path desired and needed, but unfortunately....also one that I've deviated from far too many times. The only way to learn.....doing, doing, done AND done. Brilliant? Sure. I have been, can be, will continue to aim for. And you? Something to discover. Or even something to detest. To question. To embrace. The gas be strong and the trek be long, as always. The difference? I will travel at a steadfast pace without expectation or hatreds of me, myself OR I. And why? Because windy cities or not, I will be as I am. Changing and questioning and aiming for the best of whatever I can be. There are no maps for this route so don't try to make one out of nothing. I hope to see you at the unforeseen destination, smiling and with open arms, crash pads and books. Be you as you are. Because I'll see your true colors and you'll see whatever you need to see of me. See it all. Off I roam....to a place where love is something like breathing.

LameaSAURus Rex

What IS the proper and most effective response to realizing you are an improper and insensitive arse who utters shitty and hurtfulISH bits to undeserving peeps? These words....they sprint in any direction and morph into a plethora of thoughtless jargon. Aware now more than ever am I of these very shortcomings. Sure...be me....but NOT me as a verbal degenerate without heart. And believe me....I have so much of it AND soul. The whole bit. Recognition is but a fraction of the process....undergoing critical action for the duration. Attempting to avoid sole regret of previously incurred damage, not to mention.....sabotaged possibilities. Be you dark enough to see my light? Perfect imperfection....I'm something like that, I think. Am I terrible...like really terrible? Hoping nay, imaging the worst of what is probable. My brain leanings are assuming and very, very me...for all intensive misfortunes. Learning to fly but not before crashing a time or three.

And you....do you view me in the same dreamboat light in which I marvel you? In any sense or reaction...I'm still Mamie's granddaughter, the spittin' image of my father, and when the day is done my mama will remember she is my biggest fan. Oh...please, avoid throwing in that alleged towel...it's only just begun or ended or transitioned to something uncategorizable. Done, done....gone baby, done. Imaginationland....this place and face unavoidable because these sensations and musings ARE far from contrived. Real as real as real is real. Isn't it?? For now I'll play as if previously mentioned neurotic thoughts are non-existent. Sexy? Hardly. AND they definitely aren't limited to said relations and personal misgivings...but spans to moving potentials, marketability opportunities, networking, and other stomach-churning ch-ch-CHanges. Like new dresses to my mum, I think I can, I think I can...chu chuuuuuu!! Do you think about me now and then, do you think about me now and then? Cause I'm comin' home again [pride until I die or bake pie or get hi-hi-higghhhhh?]. Chicago holds the key to your heart and also mine. Chances are I'm a bit delusional and found wanting....wanting....the city AND all that. Bowwwwwwwwmmmmmm. ???!!!

P.S. I put the HIP in hippie.

Today...I feel the world and myself in it. Under this tree I am one and with this ant crawling the length of me, the grass prickled at my back, that "doughnut" consumed. All this beauty. "Wow.....it's SO beautiful" constructions pop repeatedly in my mind. The simplicity and peaceful sense renders tears of a gladness and understanding not nearly familiar enough. Because in THIS very moment I am me and free and ready to be whatever I need to be. Can be. Shall me be me.

To these precious renderings I am glad and of what is to come, excited...hopefully...tentatively prepared and unaware.

Brew HA HAs and Bronchial Bludgers

Shock, shock meeeee. You shock, shocked me. Thank you. Thrill of said shake-up is new. Definitely. Totally. The kind of newness and goodness that requires questioning of previously held notions of what you thought you knew nothing about. The time for linguistical challenges is now. Wheels keep on spinning within me, this life, such encounters. Each introduces me to the yes, no, and maybes of this ever-expanding list of guidelines. Pro-woman. Truly. You must be JUST that if relations desired. All women deserve to be taken out and wear pretty dresses, yeah? Rock on, JC...and also pants, if desired and/or preferred....in that same way I dream of the space for men in tights and the like. Is the associated violence due to predicted sexual orientation or gender non-performativity? You tell me, bashers. Anyone who properly identifies the term cisgender also qualifies. Argh....be still this damaged, but eager aorta. If anyone was ever a sucker for a kind feminist word, it was me. On repeat. Every time. Shock me. Wait...you already did that times a zillion or so.

Check on some rad jams.

"What's your name?"Over and over and over again. It's not Jennifer or June or Mellany OR...fish. My patience is severely lacking and she is frantic and confused as ever. Crying and pouting....like the aged of four. Off I go...to forget a bit, develop a bit, learn a bit, and cope a bit. As needed. Yes, I bloom later and later every year. I am precious, like a flower. And you? A bee.

Electrical Frijoles

Inspiration presents itself as many a thing. The highs. The lows. Why not the contented mediocrity of now? Write, write, delight. If I want I can paint a memory or thought into readable existence....how well is yet to be deciphered. For instance here: this regular has a routine. A well-established routine of mushrooms [non-specialized effects], raspberrry dressings, and phrases laced with "sweetheart." Comfort, yet fear encases this practice of routine, habit....tradition? An inability to conjure new concepts? Most others embrace traditions so effortlessly that it renders my questioning a near abnormality. "It is your responsibility to rebel, to change," sir tells me, with love. And in this way, I have and I shall. Simply I remember my favorite things and don't feel so bad...yeah, Madre? Up, up, and away I come to you. Please forgive the absence knowing I've missed you terribly and think of you fondly and frequently. I shoulda called, shoulda written, shoulda been many a thing. Alas, I am as I am. Inept and incapable of the unreachable perfection. All the same. Branching and reaching out is the ultimate means for coming to terms with lack of said perfect existence and how much it be desired within another. Wouldn't identify as shallow, but at times feel low as tainted gallows. Rising. Learing. Phenoix and flame.

SIDE silly. Me: "Base jumping...on the clock? Is that ok?" Boss: "Oh sure, cause it's highly likely you wouldn't survive which means no work comp payout." BRIlliant. New work places rock.

Nice to (not) meet you, Red Pants. Take care and prosper.

Off to another place entirely. A locale of indifference and comfort and newness. Yus. YES. Love yourselves. Always.

Captured

Breathe in. Breathe out. Riddled with less time, even less sleep, more ideas about birthdays and expectations and insecurities. Torn up. Breathing through these alleged damages. Accepting the limitations (???), contemplating challenges and desires. Second thoughts reveal a lacking to accept status quos and wading in these stagnant waters. Red fin enhances my brilliance never. SLEEP may be thee answer. The very answer I seek....again and again and fail to acknowledge but will one day grace my semi-pigmented canvas.

Here I am. Alright. With that Chinese and chopsticks to sift through the remains. I know allotted bits of your reality....imagination conjures other possibilities. What of you and your damage? Ohhhh...forget the unforgettable. Always and on.