Inanimate things that I Love

My Nikon.
Ice.
Jalepeño stuffed olives.
Crystal light.
Fog.
Elevators.
Mud.
Bowls that disintegrate when you wash them. (my noodle bowl from trader joes' - its made from cornstarch so it's compostable or biodegradable - or you can just was it until it disappears.)
Chapstick.
Insulated water jugs.
Sandals.
My carebear.
Canteens.
Fire.
My afghan.
Udon Soup.
Color Laser Printers.
Heelys (http://www.heelys.com/)
Lanterns.
Jack Knives.
Erasable Colored Pencils.
Sharpees.
Pink Pearl Erasers.
Tape.
String.
Tupperware.
Ropes.
Binder twine.
Straw.
Rosebushes. (not sure if this is truly inanimate - kinda not)
Tin cans. Like, fancy ones with lids you can store change in.
Bandannas.
Bracelets.
Shampoo. (Burt's Bees!!)
Some types of earthenware.
Handblown glass drinking glasses.
Temporary tattoos.
Glow-in-the-dark stars.
Swings.
Swimming pools.
My MacBook.
Down pillows with pillow protectors so you don't get poked.
Lavender Complexion Mist.

Rainy Tuesday

Its Tuesday and it's raining, which seems to be the two conditions that spur me into pity-blogging whenever they occur together.

I had the worst dreams last night. It was about twins, who I don't know, and they were dying. Little girls. It was long and horrible. I felt too much of their pain.

And then I dreamed of my little big brother, Timothy, who died before I got the chance to meet him. He was looking up at me like he knew who I was all along.

And then I woke up thinking about how I'm going to die, and what that's going to be like. And I freaked myself out a little bit, but not in a panicky anxiety way.. it just felt so sorrowful. Like. The price we pay for all of this, is that. Death. I wanted to sob, but choked it back. I'm trying to recover. I'm trying to recover. I'm trying to recover.

And this storm of grief that came to me this morning, again, was met by my old friend, the rain, in all of it's astuteness. Coming to me like a warm blanket and mug of broth whenever its truly needed.

I love the rain. I appreciate the rain. It reminds me that when I cry, I do not cry alone. The blues and greys excite me on a primal level. The brooding sky brings me joy.

But the rain feeds THAT mood, too. The mood of disconsolateness.

Memories of my dress flapping against my legs at the cemetery come back, and more memories of how the warm rain was falling on our faces, our shoulders, and our hands. I can feel traces of the warm winds that were blowing, circling our grief and sharing in our sorrow.

I am trying so hard to stay above water. I really am.

But I am so drawn to darkness. I google my mom's name, knowing full well all that will come up is her obituary. I think of her mostly, smiling and laughing, but sometimes that goes awry, and I think of her in the ground. It doesn't do me any kind of good to let the mind go there. It feels like I am ripping at my innards and pulling out my heart with my bare hands. I don't know why I can't just stop.

I know that everyone, or most people anyway, resists change. I don't know if that is my problem right now. It's not just about change to really, really miss someone.

She was the most important person in my life. That doesn't mean to say that I don't love and didn't love other people, at all. It just means that she was the one who I always looked forward to seeing. She was fun. She was happy. She loved without apprehension. She laughed more than any one I've ever met, and not in a fake way. She looked for the best in people and was always quick to forgive.

She knew me from the get go; I never had to summarize myself in words for her. She loved all of me, even the parts she didn't understand which seemed to be pretty few and far between.

Not only did I lose my mom, but I lost my best friend. I lost the person I most looked up to. I lost my lighthouse, my rock. I lost a piece of my soul.

And here I sit at stupid work, needing to get it done and out the door. It is Tuesday, after all. And once again, as if on command, the rain resumes its pouring down.

dovey

The sunset the other night made the wet road glisten like it used to
and i noticed, too, the other night, that they still make butter dishes like they used to, too
and just because i don't have one, doesn't mean the don't make them anymore
and the sun it shone the same way through white lace
and casted little shadow flowers on the cupboards like they always have
and the doves, they cooed at me this morning
just like the first doves i remember cooing
and all of this hits me
as peculiar and strange because
i thought all that was gone
out with the bath water
out with the love, out with hope, out with everything else
i stood by and watched melt away

the funny thing is -
or one of the funny things, rather
is that i never thought the past was so darn great
when i was living it

there were things i loved
and things i liked

and things i couldn't wait to break away from

but the things i wanted to escape, i still haven't escaped
they came with me - and they come back at night
or in the day - i suppose some things never do go away

If I could reinvent myself, from scratch
I'd be as free as a seagull
but slightly less annoying

i'd inspire. I'd smile. I'd sing.
So Much More.
I'd be happy. Positive. Always waiting for that new day to arrive to rejoice in it;
spread the joy in it, and to revel in the moment.

I'd remember that every morning there is a moment
when the birds start to sing.
And leaves begin to sparkle and bees begin to buzz,
and that if I am drawing a breath then I AM BLESSED.

I am alive; I am here; I get this gift of life to do what i want with.

I would always remember that the day is new. And the day is fresh.
And the day is filled with possabilities.

I start fretting sometimes long before I should even be awake.
Long before those birds chirp their first chirp I am mourning the losses of what I had and what I could have had.
I mourn for others. I mourn for myself. I turn myself inside out before I see the first break of day.

I wonder if being a millionaire would change it all. haha.. somehow I doubt it.
I can't really see how i would.
Except, I could build a hammock-bed over an indoor swimming pool,
that i have to swing out to each night. And then each day, I could just drop down in the pool from 10 feet up.
How fun is that? How could you not start the day smiling then?

And the whole roof could be skylights
with bird feeders on it. And an automatic cleaning system for the inevitable droppings.
And I could get up and cook myself scrambled eggs with fresh basil and roma tomatoes
and eat them in my boxers, or a terry cloth robe.

I could raise boxes of kittens. I could swim all day. I could have people come visit me
and we'd bbq. I'd have a big, yellow golden retriever girl puppy. Fat and waggily.

Oh that was funny to think of..
and then I'd build my homeless shelter that i've been planning for years.
Right in the middle of Detroit
where people would have their own apartments
the only rules.. no drugs, no crime.

I know there are problems to ideas like that
but problems can be solved.

This dove this morning said to me
cooooooooo cooooooooo
and i said to her.
Yes. Coo coo, as well, too you.

:/

To all of my friends I've been neglecting:

I'm so sorry. As usual my life is drama-filled and chaotic; but my ability to hold it all down seems to be lacking right now in a big way.

I don't know what im doing. i wish i had

time, sleep
clean clothes
food
feather pillows
body wash that doesnt break me out
time, sleep
time
sleep
some in-shell peanuts
and then more sleep.

i cant find my phone.

i'm wearing my tee shirt inside out because the regular side is dirty...

and. i dont have any quarters left to wash more clothes. good thing i keep finding clean shorts in my truck.

i guess i could get some at the bank. quarters, not shorts.

I had so many quarters. Where did they all go? I must have had 100 quarters.

my dad is looking to me for support
and i can hardly make it myself
from day to day
he bitched at me, on and on, for the pork chops being too lean
i'd never spend $7 on pork chops for me. i was trying to buy the good stuff
to make him happy.
but of course. it doesnt. because it means im high fallutin,
trying to be a rich bitch, and stupid with my money.
he never considers that i will sacrifice to get him what i thought was the best

i've been eating 99 cent rice noodle bowls from trader joes.. and they aint half bad..
sometimes i eat dollar store sour gummy bats with crystal light fruit punch...

but im no more high fallutin than i've ever been.

i know he's just scared and unhappy and angry
i feel like that sometimes, I feel like he acts
the thing is, i try not to go there, no matter how good it would feel
just to cry and stomp and be a big baby when i want something
and to try to manipulate people into giving me what i want

but the manipulating, it hurts
and the guilt tripping, hurts
and im gonna try my best not to be that
because it tends to create a big ball of resentment
which is not what im going for
in my relationships

The never being good enough for him; im used to it. But being used to it never really takes the sting away.

i miss my people. my friends.
so much.

and im scared to see them. i know its weird. There will be so many questions
that i dont want to or dont know how to answer. when i dont have the answers, i cant give answers.

i just want a pillow topped bed
at the bottom of some stairs
with a blue comforter
and stars hanging from the ceiling
and time
time to sleep and rest and really sleeeeeeeep deep until i wake up
and actually dont want to sleep no more

and i want my friends to cuddle with me like kittens
in a bright yellow nest of straw.

*purrrrr*