the shaman

the first song of the day
my oracle
of the mix
“kiss off” by the femmes
i need someone
a person to talk to
someone who’d care
to love
could it be you?

followed by the kinks
“tired of waiting”
i meditate
on my absent soul mate
& draw a tarot card
the shaman…
& i say, “oh crap…this can’t be good.”
nope.
a time of isolation
of finding
thyself
no time for looking
outside
when i have
so much
work
to do
inside…
crap.

the next day, my oracle song was the femmes again…”add it up.” why why can’t i get just one fuck?
the universe wants me to keep it in my pants it seems–though i obviously have other desires.
of course the universe is right because i am way too easily distracted by even just potential–even just a hint–of a relationship.
today i got the kinks again.
“everybody’s gonna be happy.”
promises promises…
but i keep doing my work. getting stronger every day.

(i do have a lot more songs on my mix than just the femmes & the kinks…it’s just they keep turning up in the first song i play.)

dark places

i haven’t been journaling or doing much of anything
other than binge-watching preacher
& staring at walls
i know this will pass
but it is so thick
& hard to see through
when i am in the midst of it

i tried to do a spell
to break free of the psychic attacks & negative energy
from dear old dusty
as well as setting a course for a magical life
i chose this guy as my companion

i keep drawing him
& hoping the spell takes hold

i hope to finish a commissioned piece today
& to work on more art to put over
at my etsy store
(i did open an etsy store!)
& i did finish a piece for one of my patrons
(become a patron & get original art!)

but there are two more episodes of preacher
& though the sun has finally come out
i am still wallowing in a dark place

letting go

we should be proud
of ourselves
that we gave it
one
last
try
we should not
be so hard
on ourselves
for failing at something
we had little chance
of winning
you & i
just do not
belong
together
we should accept
let go
move on
& just stop
fighting
a truth we may not
agree with
but a truth
nonetheless.

i wish i could say this to him. but i am at the point where i am not even able to talk to him. anything i say–everything i say, he finds a way to twist into something ugly & profane.
i find
i just have to say less & less.
which drives him crazy. that is not my intent. i wish we could have a conversation & work things out.
but after enough circles, i really can’t see a happy ending for us.

imagine

what if
there were no political
parties
what if
it was simply
candidates
& you voted for the candidate
who best represented
your world view
& supported
your ideals?
you say
black lives matter
yet you align yourself
with a
candidate
who pushed for laws
intended to incarcerate
black people
with a vp
who enforced those laws
is that really
really really
who you want
running your country?
now
imagine you had a
real choice.

“you may say i’m a dreamer, but i’m not the only one.”

here in the states i am known as a “third party voter.” that is i do not support a two party system & am trying to break said system down. i am neither democrat or republican. i usually choose a candidate by how i think they will govern.
i believe in voting for someone…not voting against someone. i refuse to believe i have to choose the lesser of two evils.

so hate me if you must for how you perceive that i am hurting you by exercising my right to vote. you won’t be the first….

but i refuse to pretend that biden is not at least as big a piece of shit as trump & cannot understand how anyone can vote for him.
so i have joined the libertarian party this election season.
because if there is anything my raging abusive father taught me it is this: question authority.

vulnerable

like a fucking
deer
in the meadow
a bunny
in your garden
on high
alert
exposed
vulnerable
a clear shot
to my already bleeding
heart
the world
scares
the fuck
out of me
right now
being alone
in a world
gone mad
feeling
alone
in a world
gone mad.

my anxiety is through the roof, y’all. like crazy cramping nausea. i don’t think i have felt this anxious since my freshman year of high school when i was a budding freak from an abusive household in a conservative small town. is it the demise of dusty & me? is it the state of the world’s high alert? is it fucking biden for president?
probably all of that & more.
but you know what anxiety is for–it’s to let you know that something is wrong. terribly terribly wrong.
so i’m guessing it won’t be leaving me soon.

i read my tarot last night to see if i could get a leg up on what’s going on with me & was told by my cards that i am restricting myself. creating my own little prison.
near future: illumination…so that’s gotta be good….
but now i am meditating on: how do i escape a prison of me? how do i start believing in myself?
& i figure–i already have all the anxiety–may as well go ahead & push my limits…rock the boat…burn the motherfucker down….

stay tuned.

losing

fighting with you
used to be
something fun
to do
but
i’ve lost my taste
for it
now
it is only
heartbreak
& hopelessness
& walking in circles
in quicksand.

don’t spin me right round

the grooves are set
deep
so the song will play
flawlessly
he loves me
he loves me
not
he doesn’t want me
i fall apart
i put myself
back
together again…
the record spins
round
i recover
i always
recover
until the song plays
again.

pointless

no one ever loves me
best
so it’s these
rare times
i don’t feel
invisible
that i fall in love
with you
all
over
again…
but before long
i am the
third wheel
a forgotten
point
on your triangle…
invisible
again.

hopefully this is the last “another break-up with dusty” post. hopefully i have worked through all the crap…again.
i did put myself back on okcupid.
good idea or bad idea?

rotten

all i ever wanted
even
before i met you
was to be
a family…
with you
i thought we would be
always & forever
us…
did you ever
want me?
i wonder now
remembering all those
side projects
of yours
people who needed
saving
people
who weren’t
me
i wanted you to save
me
you
had other people
to do…
maybe the dead thing
i smell rotting
is me….

something that has happened repeatedly with dusty is my need to be seen & celebrated & his choosing to focus on other people.
random people
anybody, really, who wasn’t me….

dumping ground

i let you do this
to me
again
i let you in
to my heart
to my home
you
wiped your feet
on my soul
&
shat
on my couch
&
left
in disgust
at the filth
you dumped
all
over
me.

more elaborate metaphors for how i felt as dusty reacted to our break-up. probably our last break-up….

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