shades of gray

i can’t shake the feeling
i’ve done something
wrong
the sinking sensation
that everyone
rightfully
thinks i’m an asshole.

more social anxiety. i went to a get-together a couple of weeks ago and left it feeling this way. i think i was picking up on someone else’s feelings that had nothing to do with me. that happens to me more than i like.
so someone felt overwhelmed or whatever, i picked up on it, and felt like it was my fault.
a spin-out that had already begun, was escalated by this one small event.
being me is fun like that….

my shadowing got out of control as i was inking the illustration so i was just like “fuck it” and colored it all gray making it look kinda like a fallen statue…i guess that works.

see you next tuesday

sometimes i forget
what a bitch
i am
& it always surprises me
when i realize
all over again
that i am so totally
a cunt.

i would actually rather be called a cunt than a bitch. i just like “uh” sounds better than “ih” sounds. i have been called a bitch more than once to my face (or directly behind my back.) shocking, i know.
i don’t know if anyone other than me has called me a cunt. i might start requesting it. like, if you have to call me a derogatory term of a feminine nature…go with cunt…or twat…but please don’t call me a bitch.
i used to joke that when i was a kid i thought a cunt was a car that wouldn’t start. i learned all my curse words from my father, an explosive mechanic, as he screamed them from under the hood of a car.
maybe this is another reason the word does not bother me the way it bothers most american.

ninja entourage

a ninja
doesn’t want
an entourage

i thought this when i was walking somewhere with my minions. sometimes it is very difficult for me to go anywhere knowing i will have an entourage if i try to leave the house.
so this made sense to me.
i am totally a ninja.
after i had this epiphany, i arrived where my entourage & i were headed and announced that a ninja doesn’t want an entourage. the millennial man with long hair & talk of veganism at this get-together turned to my 12 year old (who is SO NOT A NINJA) and asked him, “are you the ninja?”
like, what the fuck, a chubby fifty year old woman can’t self-identify as a ninja?
ack.
this contributed to my current state of no longer socializing.
(i am a ninja)

on a completely different train of thought, as i drew the seal in this inking, i realized that my cattle dog looks just like a seal (you know, with pointy ears & four legs.)

super predator

i don’t think you were
a predator
when i met you
which makes me wonder
if i am the trigger event
they talk about
on “criminal minds”…
were you broken
but harmless
until i got ahold of you
unleashing
this creature i see
gazing seductively
in so many photos
sent to my phone
(& who else’s?)
photos that make red flags
fly
& cause me to run
even faster.

thoughts on my ex-husband. i was looking at pictures of him when i met him versus pictures of him now. he was this cuddly chubby dork…now he is an angular & smoldering with long curly hair & a devastating stare. whenever i see his big blue eyes staring at me, i get the heeby jeebies…which i am pretty sure is the opposite of what he wants….
i so totally miss the old him.
& i cannot help but hate the new him. i mean, he killed off the old him, right?
or was that me?
did i kill off old him?

somewhere in time

embracing time
as a fluid thing
that moves through me
& around me
& back again
so i can be old me
with old you
but also be
a me
that knows better.

random thoughts as i navigate my broken heart. i have been doing a lot of navigating of said heart in the past week. there will be some dark posts upcoming as i figure stuff out….

spectacular

i can’t do mundane
it must be
spectacular
if i can’t have
spectacular
i will have
nothing
i will be alone
i’m too old
it’s too late
to settle for less than
amazing.

more thoughts on relationships. i spent all those years when i was young & the world was my oyster not being discriminating at all in my dating habits.
now i’m older with much fewer options for companionship, and all of a sudden i have developed standards? that sounds about right.

carousel

i’m a fucking carousel
of emotion
watch me spin
…rather slowly at times
& to creepy music
of course
angry now
depressed now
hopeless & self-destructive
calm & grounded
elated now
full of love
turn a little more
here comes your abandonment issues!
and
oh
we are back around to the anger
…what makes the carousel turn
where is the plug?
is it safe to stop it
or
like a roulette wheel
will it stop on double 0
& everyone
loses?

another take on my spinning which is really clear if you sit & read through my journal pages all at once. i looked through about two years worth & got pretty dizzy.

best & worst

1995
lexington kentucky
flying balsa wood planes
in the park
with the man
i was engaged to
the man
i was going to spend the rest of my life
with
1996
austin texas
getting an expensive long-coveted gift
of white wing tip doc martins
from the man
who was about to leave me
as i had left him
already
for someone else
…funny thing
that is the last valentine’s day
i can remember
i remember the best
& i remember the worst that followed it
…nothing
more.

guess what i was doing for valentines? i wasn’t crying all day, i promise. i did try & try to remember any other valentine’s day. i dated someone for two years after this relationship mentioned here. then i married someone & spent several valentine’s days with him. then i married someone else & spent more than a decade of valentine’s days with him.
jesus.
in my defense, none of the guys who followed the best & the worst valentine of mine, none of those guys were very good at being sweet to me.
the last guy to be sweet to me gave me a pair of white doc martin wing tips & then broke my heart.
no matter how many valentines i make & give to people, i cannot quite heal that wound.

trash

i am brilliant trash
a plastic bag
dancing in the wind
a piece of tinsel
stuck in a tree branch
i am fantastic
majestic
trash
a paper boat
launched into a storm drain
lint woven into a bird’s nest
i am amazing
trash
living in fear
of being thrown away
of not being recognized
for my amazing
potential.

yup. another true story.
i cannot remember what inspired this page. i’m sure others have touched on this theme. it seems like a common one to folks like me. the broken & damaged with our dazzling souls just longing to be noticed.
sigh.
someday….

circles

going in circles…
am i
a flushed tank of
toilet water
swirling
am i
a tornado
tall as a mountain
& filled with rage
& frustration
am i
a quiet dust devil
on a summer evening
appearing
as if by magic
& disappearing again
into the dusk?

that’s the question.
though i am probably all three of those things. it just depends on when you catch me.
but reading through journals trying to find fodder for my the invisible exhibitionist book version, i notice that i am definitely not a linear person. yup, i’m the moon…though i guess the moon doesn’t really turn? but it does go circles around the earth, so, yeah! i’m the moon.
moody moody moon.

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