sometimes i collapse, and i am tiny and small
and my shoulders don't stop shaking. i do not pray but i ask for help all the time. there is nothing to laugh about. my life collapses around me. what could i possibly have done to deserve this? i get tired of the sound of my tears. sometimes there are no happy endings. no happiness at all. sometimes i'm just broken and that's all there is. no pieces to put back together.
just broken. that's it. game over. everyone else has packed up, gone home, and moved on. nothing is left and no one remembers; nothing remains. I am Jack Twist; I am Ennis del Mar. "Never the two shall meet" (what is that from?); two parallel lines that never intersect. part of me feels like i must be getting something really wonderful in my future for all i've been through; but i don't see that happening. i'll always have to deal with meds. is anyone else's love large enough for me and all my stuff? my hair loss, acne scars, lost years, juvenile-ness, inexperience, daftness, etc. etc. etc.?
i am so afraid about the rest of my life. job...where to live...what will become of me. i'm at the end of one story but not yet at the beginning of another. i feel like i've been forced to "walk the plank" and there is nothing in front of me but entire oceans.
i swim all the time and there are no islands, nowhere to take a rest or catch a breath, so i swim on, past exhaustion, weariness; past numbness and give-up-ness, past beyond, the end, no more, and i give up. way, way farther than that. father still, and it never ends. treading water, losing brain cells every minute of every day, and then some.
i haven't really cried in a long time. it's hard. all i want is to go home. that is all that is left of me and my former life. not even Muffin. i feel totally disconnected from my old life; we don't even have our house anymore. i never wanted to sell that house; i'm still there everyday. i can't believe we had to do that; it was such a betrayal and then i spent two years in a retirement community in my mid 20's because i was so sick i could not do anything else but stomach more and more unending humiliation.
no love, no light, no human contact, no feelings, no experiences, no happiness, no contact with people my own age. i would make an allusion to Rapunzel but the resemblence ends there; as does the lack of happy ending for me so far (how did her story end? i can't remember).
i cannot tolerate happy endings and love stories because they have not happened for me. i am so afraid of the future. i am so afraid i will never find anyone to love or to love me; i am afraid of never having any money. i am afraid to get a job or go off of disability. i don't know how to shoulder the burden anymore. i am atlas, and i want to put down the globe.
how come no one comes to my rescue? why is there no one to pay my bills and love me at the end of the day? what could i possibly have done to deserve this?
will i ever find anyone like mr. darcy when i'm afraid to go out in public and don't know how to talk to people my own age? nothing matters to me but my inner life and what's left of my family. i have no siblings. i miss my old house so much. when i need help, people run away. there is no one to dry my tears or hold my hand.
i want to be discovered and i don't. i want everyone to know and i want no one to know. i want to be true to myself and that is all. cruelty, old age, loss, loss, and more loss. i have no idea how to be myself; no idea at all. prisoner of my own being and breathing. damn helene cixous; she makes me think again. i am my only advocate and my own worst enemy.
i was born in the wrong century, to begin with, and things went awry from there. it will all look much different in the light of day but it will not be any different. i have a headache; it is very cold outside. my windows have no insulation; single pane, charming, antique-ish but not practical. choosing substance over style makes me feel old. fingers are perennially frozen. i have nightmares every night.
i have a headache. sometimes i only exist on the outside, like a barnacle, but i am always there on the inside. would that i could do away with that artificial outside sometimes! i do not wish my life to be limited by the smallness of my mind. i want good things to happen and opportunities to arise and be taken advantage of. i don't want to scare others away anymore. i do not wish to be a porcupine, thought i feel thorny, like a mine field, and a labyrinth, all at once, sometimes.
it's really cold in here. my fears are a corrosive acid that make me feel as if i am the only one who feels that way.
just broken. that's it. game over. everyone else has packed up, gone home, and moved on. nothing is left and no one remembers; nothing remains. I am Jack Twist; I am Ennis del Mar. "Never the two shall meet" (what is that from?); two parallel lines that never intersect. part of me feels like i must be getting something really wonderful in my future for all i've been through; but i don't see that happening. i'll always have to deal with meds. is anyone else's love large enough for me and all my stuff? my hair loss, acne scars, lost years, juvenile-ness, inexperience, daftness, etc. etc. etc.?
i am so afraid about the rest of my life. job...where to live...what will become of me. i'm at the end of one story but not yet at the beginning of another. i feel like i've been forced to "walk the plank" and there is nothing in front of me but entire oceans.
i swim all the time and there are no islands, nowhere to take a rest or catch a breath, so i swim on, past exhaustion, weariness; past numbness and give-up-ness, past beyond, the end, no more, and i give up. way, way farther than that. father still, and it never ends. treading water, losing brain cells every minute of every day, and then some.
i haven't really cried in a long time. it's hard. all i want is to go home. that is all that is left of me and my former life. not even Muffin. i feel totally disconnected from my old life; we don't even have our house anymore. i never wanted to sell that house; i'm still there everyday. i can't believe we had to do that; it was such a betrayal and then i spent two years in a retirement community in my mid 20's because i was so sick i could not do anything else but stomach more and more unending humiliation.
no love, no light, no human contact, no feelings, no experiences, no happiness, no contact with people my own age. i would make an allusion to Rapunzel but the resemblence ends there; as does the lack of happy ending for me so far (how did her story end? i can't remember).
i cannot tolerate happy endings and love stories because they have not happened for me. i am so afraid of the future. i am so afraid i will never find anyone to love or to love me; i am afraid of never having any money. i am afraid to get a job or go off of disability. i don't know how to shoulder the burden anymore. i am atlas, and i want to put down the globe.
how come no one comes to my rescue? why is there no one to pay my bills and love me at the end of the day? what could i possibly have done to deserve this?
will i ever find anyone like mr. darcy when i'm afraid to go out in public and don't know how to talk to people my own age? nothing matters to me but my inner life and what's left of my family. i have no siblings. i miss my old house so much. when i need help, people run away. there is no one to dry my tears or hold my hand.
i want to be discovered and i don't. i want everyone to know and i want no one to know. i want to be true to myself and that is all. cruelty, old age, loss, loss, and more loss. i have no idea how to be myself; no idea at all. prisoner of my own being and breathing. damn helene cixous; she makes me think again. i am my only advocate and my own worst enemy.
i was born in the wrong century, to begin with, and things went awry from there. it will all look much different in the light of day but it will not be any different. i have a headache; it is very cold outside. my windows have no insulation; single pane, charming, antique-ish but not practical. choosing substance over style makes me feel old. fingers are perennially frozen. i have nightmares every night.
i have a headache. sometimes i only exist on the outside, like a barnacle, but i am always there on the inside. would that i could do away with that artificial outside sometimes! i do not wish my life to be limited by the smallness of my mind. i want good things to happen and opportunities to arise and be taken advantage of. i don't want to scare others away anymore. i do not wish to be a porcupine, thought i feel thorny, like a mine field, and a labyrinth, all at once, sometimes.
it's really cold in here. my fears are a corrosive acid that make me feel as if i am the only one who feels that way.
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