Stressed and Depressed

It's not enough that this is the end of the semester and, possibly, the end of my formal academic career; that I'm flying down to Florida next Wednesday for graduation and visitation; that I have no money; that I'll be financially responsible for two other people this summer and have, to date, no money or realistic job prospects to pay for this, and that I was turned down for the position I was vying for here at the Partnership. But I'm PMSing like a crazy bitch, too.

I sat out work yesterday and watched t.v. and smoked pot all day instead. Everytime I think about not returning to work next week, a lump forms in my throat and my eyes threaten tears. I'm not hiding it very well, either. Everyone can tell, and has made concerned comments about it. I just lie to them or stand there wishing I could break down while chained by my self-respect. I feel pathetic and powerless.

This is no way to get a job and/or turn out a stellar academic performance before grades are due next week.

Grey As Is

The point is, I have discovered, to delude yourself until you can no longer deny the truth: the reality is you are not what you say you are, actually, you are what you are. No amount of self-projection can make you better than you are.

i'm proud of the fact
that i'm worse than i seem

The difficult part is learning the Delusion Saturation Point from the Line Where Reality Begins. Most people are less-inclined to believe in themselves; they're the Waning Ego Types.

The rest of us are the Delusional Egotistical Types. The name explains it all.

what bugs me (you)
is that you (I) believe what you're (I'm) saying
what bothers me (you)
is that you (I) don't know how you (I) feel
what scares Me
is that while you're (I'm) telling me (myself) stories
you (I) actually
believe that they are real

The Cartoon Effect

It's barely morning, still I'm up on a Saturday morning, and that gives me some alone time. Not that I've been missing that or needing it, but it occurs to me that I prefer it that way. My Girl sleeps until afternoon, usually, even if we were up early eating breakfast and reading the paper. But we're different. And we're both creatures of habit. A combination that makes room for space between us so that we can air out.

It's preferable for both of us, I think. :)

April 21st

Today is Poem in Your Pocket Day, as deemed by the NYC Department of Education. This is why I love NYC. [grins]

Perhaps one of my favourite things about Emily Dickinson's poetry is the seemingly inconsistent placement of capital letters. But because all the academic cunts out there refuse to recognise her "random" capitalisation as part of her poetry, it's rare to find a website with the correct denotations.

Fuckers.

I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.

Nor had I time to love; but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.

And perhaps my favourite (a holdover from my Christian days):

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept us all so warm.

This poem, I hope, provides for you order to my seemingly chaotic capitalisation:

Nature is what we see,
The Hill, the Afternoon—
Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee,
Nay—Nature is Heaven.

Nature is what we hear,
The Bobolink, the Sea—
Thunder, the Cricket—
Nay,—Nature is Harmony.

Nature is what we know
But have no art to say,
So impotent our wisdom is
To Her simplicity.

What's in YOUR pocket?

Like Us All: Inventing Ways to Play Out Time

I suppose I'm a bit overdue around here for words and explanations of how I've been passing my time lately. It has been a while, I guess.

I'm not exactly sure what it is I've been avoiding. Things have gone well, mostly, aside from the odd secretive, tawdry dollop rocking my boat; oh, this princess did feel the pea.

It's funny how we mark time. The only things I remember according to the date are the events which occur only because said date marks the occassion, and not the other way around (i.e. birthdays, anniversaries, religious holidays and 'special commercial occassions' - like Mother's Day). I don't celebrate the birth of a loved one just once a year; I am grateful and joyous every chance I get to see them- I consider this a celebration dance of sorts.

course, then i think of my dad
who time travels mostly now
back to when he was free
and holding out hope somehow
who sits all day in a line
of wheelchairs against a wall
inventing ways to play out time
like us all
like us all

This month the end of my period marked the date of: 2 April, 2005, not a day that will live in infamy (though I did have good hotel sex and that bears mentioning).

Test results marked the 16th of April, 2005. As a marker of time, this day means very little to very many people. But to me and Mine, it marked the beginning of a new era, not unlike the birth of the Christ.

Not long after my last post, I wandered out west (keep in mind I live an hour from the Atlantic) to brave parental Christening. I was out of town until the 3rd of April and have been playing catch-up ever since. I still don't feel caught up, but that's only because I'm drowning in a sea of projects due in less than two weeks. On top of that, I'm auditioning for a job. I am more or less overwhelmed, but cocky of my impending success.

... And so I avoid you? I can't imagine why.

i'll have more to say when i'm happy
'course, then i'll have less to sing

...and these words are my lyrics.

Maybe it's just because April is always a busy month for me, ever since I started college. Papers due, educational examination, and the stress of worrying about all the places you fucked up during the semester and how they will affect your grade.

Oh, but it is a thrill.

course, [none] of us [are] wearing helmets
and our blood [is] just everywhere

I leave for Florida in 13 days (one of my favourite numbers). It's been since October that I've seen my family and friends from home. That makes it six months, a first for me. The most surprising news is that I hardly missed them. Like a ghost appendage syndrome, it feels strange to be so disconnected from people I once felt such a strong connection with.

But I look forward to going back there. I've been missing it lately. I'm so glad I have the 'graduation' excuse. I'm fly out on the 4th (I'm sure I'll tear up again as I watch My Skyline fade below the clouds) and return on the 10th. I plan to have a night out with all my buds, make an open invitation for everyone to come out and see me. It'll be Cinco de Mayo and I plan to drink quite a few Coronas. The following day is my graduation, which my parents are driving down for.

Did I tell you I bought a painting? Yes, I'm now a collector of folk artist Joe Brown. I think he's sweet on me, a fact which disturbs my image of his as a grandfather and genuinely sweet guy. He is a phoenix, having graduated from the streets and into a life of independence. That may be one of my favourite things about him. That, and his talent for painting.

I paid more for the hand-made frame than I did for his painting, so I'm clearly proud of my investment.

And, this morning, I made Her cry out of genuine fear, while I laughed until I realised what was going on. She forgave me, so I'll be sure not to push that envelope ever again. I love her too much.