eM

STAND. I must stand. With feet of my own and in no uncertain terms. Can’t want to want to want OR hope to hope to hope. In my heart of hearts and dream of dreams it can be nothing less than what it needs to be.

To me, an angel you will ever be. A teacher of my soul, a purveyor of the truth I so desperately sought. Taught me and brought me to the distraught me. Each moment do I discover a bit more confusing light and loss of the reality in which I once found so much comfort.

Have to be me as me and forever then shall I be. With or without me, life flows on and on and even more on. Will I catch that wave? To a destination of undetermined peace and untimely wisdom. To a place where I am in love with love and expectations be none. With the poetry that I know it to be. To be.

Free.

YES and Many, Many More Things

"Why worry?"

"Because it's one of the only things I'm good at."

"Nonsense, why do you say that?"

Haters might hate but I hate more. Hate that I hate that I hate...that I don't even hate. Perhaps I only despise that which I think I can no longer control....have never controlled.....shan't control. A free bird...free as a bird I dream to be. The free spirit you've always seen me to be. Wished I could see. 

Like that song about talking about me. Just me....sub in worries and more thoughts and fears, still. Round and round and soon to crack an axle.  Breaking the pedestal I've constructed. In you I find I must reject it. All of it, in fact. Different definitely isn't equal but neither is deprecation of self (eM). Thank you for all that YOU are. 

Each eleven of the twelve I shall tackle like never ever before. Flag football hardly polished the rudders and so here I find myself: exploring new territories, setting abstract goals, excited at the prospect of change. The change I never had to consciously contemplate before now. For it is this lack which has corrupted the potential and the present. Right now...with you...it is as sure as the sun. But me, in the orange chair, without a clue....as comforting as it is crippling. Tally heave and ho. 

I feel the hum in ears and head, even if only for a minute or five. Starting so very small with room for sitar lessons. No, actually the harmonica. "And life flows on within you and without you....."

With or without what I need I shall proceed. Into the farce. 

Bright Copper Kettles and Warm Woolen Mittens.

She is irritated. She is she is she is she is me. I am her. She is me. I sound just like her, they tell me. But I am NOT her. I am me. I carry her and her name around with me. Everyday. Every way. Hope to be as good, as smart, and maybe even happier. Justice for she. She died. She lived. Here she is. Now and then. Different but the same. Alive but dead. The light in her eyes, which once burned so vibrantly, is now reserved for fleeting moments on limited days. With her I am lost while found.....whole but fragmented...resolved but left wanting.

I am selfish, I think. Indeed, I am regularly reminded of such assertions through other assertions from people I have trusted since inception. Selfish with my thoughts, wishes, and dreams. The dreams she dreamed for me stretched as far as the eye can see. Now I dream of dreams, make peace with dreams, imagine new dreams. I am damaged. Devoid of instinct...of the confidence to say I know what I know what I know.

"Thank you," she says.
"For what?" I respond.
"For letting me breath," she tells me.

I move towards the bed where she lies and prop myself against the familiar headboard. Unaware of her own power she grasps my hand and and holds it between hers. As tears begin to stream down my cheek, I am as thankful as I am angry. Grateful for this moment of connection, of flashback, of awakening. Missing her even as she holds me. Upset that I am crippled by the past, unwilling to accept this future. Learning to accept what I thought I'd accepted. Parting with what I thought was departed.
He pities me. Slams doors at the very thought of what I think. Yells and pleads with confusion. With anger. Succeeds at deploring my processes, demanding me to question my methods...my very ways of being me and seeing me.
I am scared and fearful of not having the know how or courage to change. Changing the way I experience change. The most profound and affecting change of my life. She is me. I am she. We are we and forever shall we be. Together.

And American Hooooooney

No words of which to speak. No games in which to engage. Realer a reality than ever realized was realistically real. Little is the same as ever and going back to whenever, where ever is far from a plausibly desirable outcome. The very composure of my brain has been refashioned with a refreshed perspective so brilliantly bright that usable descriptions be sparse. Must feel it, be it, know it....as I know it....know you....know this new world. Of now. Of foreseeable futures. [[I never felt it. I never knew someone could get inside my soul the way you do. Yeah, you got me in the palm of your hand. It's beautiful and terrifying.]] Yeap, I'm what you call a goner. I confront these challenges and fearfully joyous tears with a fervor once reserved for.....when? I don't know when. Clearer than the clearest Mediterranean blues and Grecian whites. Yeah, I see you and your dangers. I've warmed up. Ready to navigate the infinite abyss and all that jazz she loved so much. Thank you for you. Existence. Here. Now. This life is...life.

I might get lost but I won't be lost. Never can it be so when highly valued roots and connections present themselves as frequently as trees and bees (aye, me. Survive. Survive. Until I die). On my knees. These bees. I will be as I BEE as I bee. Just me.

Please know I love you all and am ever thankful for your support and readership. Serious apologies for my many weeks of neglect. Here I be. Ready to rock your body.....please stay. xooo [the reeeeeeally good kind that buckle those knees of yours and implore you to utter "mmmmmmmmm.....]

Interviews and Exclamations

I am SO alive! Stoked something solid. Pumped past passion. Whatever you are doing, you're doing it well. And me, I'll add. If there be no call of affirmation (UPDATE: I definitely got the job), I will remain in the pleasure of these leaps and bounds. I think it's true. Really. I think I might really be....awesome. The legit kind. The desirable and influential kind. Impossible to describe how spot-on the mojo was...damn was it affirming. Swirling around the room as in a creation via Van Gogh. A soothing and soulfully pronounced beat, compliments of Sade. I get it. This had to happen just as it happened. I am illuminated with the indescribable glory, along with the scents and pending tastes of that which is Harold's Chicken (UPDATE: I AM ADDICTED).
**Check out my buddy [thee awe-inspiring and motivating], Emanuel Vinson.


Edit edit edit edit edit edit EDIT. FYVM.
-----------------
This is to the necessitating of scrubs and the lacking of desire in all that is creeps. The scrubs be simple. But you....? OH, it had to happen. Should of happened longISH ago. Did happen. Bullshit away the faulty logic of violation. I might forgive but certainly don't forget. Shake, shake, shake the faith. Always. Again. Again. So I continue. The ongoing process of self-protection and doing what is right. To me. Your input isn't valid. Truth. You've corrupted this thought process, the very security I knew. The capacity for beauty has given way to misjudged violations and frustration in knowing that help is but a step away. Get some.
----------------

What makes this dandy and tolerable? Podcasts. Best one ever? Poddy Mouths. Listen. Love. Learn about some of the loves of my life and the definition of they-didn't-just-go-there conversations. I am featured in episodes 11 AND 12. Check 'em out.

<3 always,
Alejandra

P.S. Let's hang out soon and laugh about the strangeness. And life.

Of These Decimated Chains

Different. Always do I declare claims of an experienced difference. In feelings. In mindset. In disclosure. Yet again I find different to be infinitely linked with preferable and awakening. It can be said that the only surefire promises in this life or the next are death and change. From this juncture I'd steadily accept both. AND also life. Oh so much for embracing and snuggling. Impossible to foresee attached comforts and unintended satisfactions. Apparently I can get some. From the simplest of beautifully bonding means. Kind of unreal, really. I can't be THAT fantastic, can I? Can I? Be it true that those you surround yourself with are a reflection of what lies within or out? If so, then I must be not only noteworthy, but also deep, intelligent, and kinda silly. Accurate self-concept seems a taxing feat, riddled with doubt and misinformation. Me: my toughest of critics, I gather. Me: in a full-on battle of confidence and assurance.

"I see you as a strong woman," he responded. Then there was the strength I never knew I had. To hug myself in the midst of fears and tears [REjoice in the recurrence of happy tears. HAPPY for happy mist]. To embrace solitary existence [while being ready to rock provided desirable conditions.....now, maybe?] Is it, likewise, my weakness? The flood gates typically close up just as quickly as they release BUT the current conundrum is brilliant. Fucking brilliant. Do it up real!!!
I am as I am, hopelessly flawed and struggling to grasp implications of past trauma drama. I am one with the damned, it seems. With skulls on my shoes and a bone in my nose....bells on my toes. AND also gorgeous, stated and internalized. Thank you for everything wonderful known to me and you. Brain explosions and screams of joyful rage. This is my journey. And I love it.

Angelic Vocals

Of all the days. Of all the ways. You did it today. Like THAT. The only way you saw fit. The only way that made sense. But to me? It’s just another frustration that exhibits the outcome of emotional stunting and hermit tendencies. I could equally call out my issues and limitations, but self-hatred isn’t something need be practiced for I am already well-versed. It’s not a shock. I am aware of the possibilities and needs I am short of fulfilling. So for now I breathe deeply. I danced like I danced and then danced some more. Morrow, sir….morrow. Dealing with alleged grievances we shall. Outcomes likely pluralistic and fragmented. Our VERY relationship at stake you said….wow. Ok.

These past few 9-4s [AM] of musical intake rendered me exhausted and wordless, yet evidently enriched and thankful. Thankful for the sensuous passion via Company of Thieves, the irresistibly egotistical rage of Future Rock, the dependability of Murder by Death, the sensitivities via MC Chris, and down-to-earth nature of Maps and Atlases. Success. Yes, this is the look of success. Worn-out success, but success. Bonds were forged, discoveries were made, ear drums damaged yet again. Cheap za. Multitudes of wrist bands. Nicely done, DKB and KSP [it don’t break even, no]. Again and again. Paleeease.

You. You. A tentative answer to a horribly constructed question of snuggles and dedications of sorts. You. Brilliant and promising. The honest and goodness of this synopsis is that I need not such company though as of late I acknowledge desires that it be present. No pressure, pressure, PREssure. Be as you are. FANtastic and new and full of introductions in the flesh.

Couches. Off I zonk.