something different

i should try something
different
i think
this
obviously
isn’t working
i gesture to the life
around me
the chaos i am
waist deep
in
the disorder
the depression
the overwhelming
sense
of helplessness…
i should try something
different
i whisper
to myself
but for the life of me
i cannot
think
of anything else
i haven’t
already
tried.

dipping my toes in darkness…again. yesterday i was dancing…today not so much. but, you know, the dance of life, the dance we do as we try to get better–two steps forward one step back.
which means, i am always dancing.
but the music changes….

falling to earth

i’m quite a way
away
from my comfort zone
(i cannot
see
my house from here)
major tom to ground control
who
do i think
i am?
my demons have launched
a counter
attack
(they are calling it
a rescue
mission)
to tow me back
to my comfortable
confined
cubby
where nothing happens
so i have nothing
to worry
about.

more anxiety art journaling due to venturing out of my comfort zone. i think these demons might live in many households, whispering, keeping people from doing things they want to do….
i think of that scene from labyrinth where sarah is manipulated by goblins into thinking she is safely back in her room with all her favorite things instead of rescuing her baby brother.
that’s totally what it feels like.

reset

to defeat my imposter’s syndrome
i have to
become
what i fear
they think
i think
i am….
if they think i think
i am
an awesome writer
i have to believe
i am an awesome
writer
if they think i think
i am
an unstoppable artist
i have to believe
i am an unstoppable
artist
if they think i think
i am a good
& valuable
person
i have to believe
i am
it is the only way
to stop
feeling like
an imposter.

so i was at a dance party in viroqua. yes, i was. and i was half-assedly dancing…then i remembered i don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of my questionable dancing skills.
so then, as i was reeling from imposter’s syndrome due to my book, my show, my writer’s group, & my freestore…i began questioning whether or not i gave a fuck…& this is what i figured out.

(i was a little disturbed by the size of the head in my inking, but based on the words, maybe it is important to let her have a big head)

nightmares

even in my nightmares
i wonder
at the pain
i feel
of losing someone
i have
already
let go of….
i said goodbye
to him
but in my dreams
when he says
goodbye
it hurts
like a thousand
knives
a dream i have
too often
his cold eyes
looking away
his ears
deaf to my pleas
his touch
a forbidden
never again
& i feel
such
profound
dispair
even though
when awake
i do just fine
without him….

i’m trying to figure out why i keep having this dream. in my experience, when i have the same dream over & over, my subconscious is dead set on letting me know something.
so why do i have dreams of dusty leaving me even though i have buried him a thousand times now?

highs & lows

i am happy…
or is it just mania?
a high following a low
what is normal
i wonder
i feel
happy
like everything
is falling
into
place
& the life
i imagined
is finally finding its way
into
reality
will i crash again
tomorrow?
what is normal
i wonder
knowing i love
the ups
& downs
& would never trade
my chaotic
everyday
for a medicated one
of flatlines
& no stories
to tell
no poems
to write
i will always choose
paint splattered walls
over
white ones.

a thought i had while talking to a friend diagnosed with bipolar disorder. what is crazy? really… i mean, is it just a matter of riding out the ups & downs? i’ve always valued the fuckedupedness of my life for it’s giving me fresh perspectives & sparks in my imagination.
maybe i’m crazy…but i wouldn’t trade it for the world.

the magic is mine

it is me
not them
the magic is mine
not theirs
but
i give it away
too easily
(it is mine to give)
then i start thinking
that the magic
was never mine
to begin with
when
really
the magic
was me
& wherever i happen
to leave it
it
never
leaves me.

my illustration kinda mirrors the other goddess one i did a couple days back. it’s how i am feeling lately, i guess: open.
as someone who has spent a lot of her life feeling she needs to have walls & trenches & guards alert always…it is nice to feel open.
i do prefer the open feeling.
even though it can make my guards pretty itchy.

awaken

i am a goddess of creation
i am a feeling goddess
a healing goddess
the cosmos whirls in my womb
i can draw down the moon
climb inside
& see you in my dreams
i want to feel
your pain
so i can heal
your pain
i want to give you
what you need
but!
you must honor me
honor that energy
that moves
inside me
like a hurricane
do not take me for granted
or offer me any injury
i am a goddess of creation
but never forget
when creation is not respected
destruction follows
i want to give you what you need
but you better
never ever
not once
fuck with me.

i wrote this after an especially opening body work session. a part of me that has been shut down for many years, opened up & released this trapped goddess part of me.
pretty fucking cool.

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.)

obsolete

i
am
pointless
a redundancy
a misplaced narrative
that does not need
to be found
not really
just
let me gather dust
in a corner
forgotten
impotent
obsolete.

i have been super depressed the past few days. the world, of course, is a mess. i, of course, am a mess. my parenting skills are questionable. my relationship attempt with the ex crashed & left me heartbroken…again.
but i was so tired of myself
that i couldn’t even journal
so i just kept spiraling downward.
but!
i picked up my pen yesterday & managed to write these few words.
& that totally helped to exorcise demons & sweep away dark thoughts.

in related news, i am trying to start a creative group of people who can come together for support & encouragement. i got one text this morning after posting a classified on our little town’s local listings. yay! & i got support coming in from the community center i keep my freestore at (yes, my freestore is still a thing.)

moving forward, y’all. moving forward.
sometimes pretty fucking slowly, but moving forward nonetheless.

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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