angel

this...
this is a photo of my heart.

i give by letting go--
i am taking one step back.

a couple of years ago, i rec'd 1,000 ladybugs by mail and shortly after that, a lemon tree from the same person. there were two stickers on the box that contained the tree...
fragile and caution: thorns.
i reciprocated with bubbles labeled hope and dreams,
bandaids labeled sadness and heartbreak
and blue dye for bathwater.
sometimes, i believe, the universe puts you in the right place at the right time. this person sent me hope in the form of leaves and branches. the seeds inside those lemons were diamonds. i will always be grateful. and lemons will always mean magic.

the sky was can dy lu minous edible spry pinks shy lemons greens coo 1choc olate s.un der, a lo co mo tive s pout ing vi o letse.e. cummings yes. lemons will always=magic.

i have idiopathic intracranial hypertension and i am afraid of going blind because i am already afraid of the dark.

i worry, sometimes, like everything has become a big jumble of ridiculousness and that maybe promises are just words and that's why so many people rely on symbols but then--hell, maybe i'm guilty too.

i have a handful of weeds in my best vase because they were prettier than any flowers i've seen in a long time.

i want to write love letters to all of my friends.

there was a boy in kindergarten that i thought hung the moon. i remember that he taught me how to tie my own shoes & looking down at his hands, i was reminded of starfish.

i love my family.

i am almost always lost in thought and so i say 'what?' an awful lot.

i miss my brother.

i saw a shadow touch a shadow's hand. once. a long time ago.

i have several pictures of me that my daughter has drawn. in the majority of them, i have no hands. i'd love to hear your opinion of what you think this might mean.

i used to write but have not really been able to in months. i miss this more than i let on but i truly just do not know where all of my words have gone.

this is not my real world. maybe THAT is why i am the last to know.

i hate the telephone.
i will promise to call you back. it'll be a lie.

you know my history in fragments and i know your life in sketches.

i am almost always sleepy. and cold.

i have a terrible mouth. as i've said before--i get it from my mother who got it from her mother who got it from hers. it's atrocious and truly, it's not something that i'm proud of...
but who am i to fuck with genetics?
(seriously, i'm working on it)

i would like to have a piece of your world.

sudden, loud noises make me irrationally angry.

i have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

i have a difficult time, to this day, discerning right from left.

don't trust me when i say that i trust you. really, i only believe half of everything you say.

i am maybe a little sad that the word 'wonderfully' does not transfer well into other languages.

i ♥ my dalek dunnys (dunnies?).

i tiptoe back into myself so i can run from what i was.

i never wanted to grow up, never wanted to get old. peter pan was as close to a hero as i ever came and i don't know. time did not pay attention to these wishes. i have bones that pop, muscles that ache, a 'bad shoulder' and bills. BUT i'm in a good place. i laugh, i turn corners with airplane arms and i laugh. a lot. it's not as bad as i thought it would be.

i have lots of stories. and secrets.

i was talking to a friend recently about people who are able to reinvent themselves through careers, relationships, etc.
she said 'they had to walk through these doors and make something of themselves. i came in cool. and i've thought you were great since the day i met you'.
WE ARE FUCKING ROCKSTARS.

PS--i do not care for sparklies or references to poo and comments containing either will be deleted immediately.
SERIOUS FUCKING BUSINESS.

(bold=t.s. eliot)

jebem ti sunce

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