lucky number seven

reading the dead
gnats
at the bottom
of my beer glass
like they are tea leaves
fortelling my doom
but look!
seven!
my lucky number
& i strain them out
so i can finish
my drink.

a companion page to yesterday’s. though i still like beer…it does not seem to like me very much. i’ve started suffering from headaches & joint pain when i have just one beer. having two results in journal pages like this one….

hazy lazy afternoon

no
don’t worry
i’m just trying
to go into an alcohol induced
trance
to meet my true love
on some neutral plane
some
parallel universe
on this
hazy
lazy
afternoon
a too warm breeze
through an open curtain
gnats
suicidal fairies
in my too warm beer
as i drool
on the fabric
of my armchair
murmuring
“where are you already?”
“isn’t this where we agreed upon?”
“i don’t understand”
“i…miss you…”

sad & true. i am not longer to tolerate any kind of strength in a beer & may have to swear the stuff off for good. which makes me a little sad.
i will have to find new ways to commune with otherworldly realms.

the storm

standing in the rainstorm
accepting
i am powerless
wind whipping
blowing against me
speaking to me
urging me to listen
i hesitate
…i hesitate
i wish i did not
hesitate
to follow the urging
of the wildness
of the storm
urging me to follow
my own
wildness
to pay no attention
to those who might
judge me
to run free
…i will not hesitate
again.

hopefully i will not hesitate again. when i wrote this, i felt pretty sure…but i worry i am not as bold as i pretend to be. i guess time will tell.
i wrote this the day after the flood as i stood on my porch & watched (& participated in) yet another rainstorm. the last serious one for now. i felt i needed to be out in the storm, to interact with the water, so that the creek would not feel it was necessary to come visit me again.
i am happy to report my yard is finally drying up after a week of beautiful weather.
i am no longer afraid of a sinkhole opening up in my lawn.

day seventy-two

day seventy-two at madness manor
& the creek
came for a visit
i watched
helplessly
worst case scenarios
playing on loop
in my head…
the water didn’t care
it came up
from the ground
it came over the bridge
just to let me know
how powerless
i am
just to let me know
what’s important
& how
ultimately
i just need to let go
to trust.

so super scary! i knew going in there would be some flooding, & i would get water in my basement…but to actually watch the creek rise…& rise…& not stop rising until it was knocking on my backdoor….
scary as fuck.
water is a powerful element, y’all.

that last one is my backyard.
i am so so so very grateful there was no real damage–just mud in my basement & things knocked around by the water.
i don’t know how often this will happen. a city worker told me that the bridge is at fault & needs to be widened.
thing is, i live in a valley with a creek and when heavy rains come, they wash off of all those hills & into the creek & the water comes from near & far to accumulate right by my house.
& these days, the heavy rains come more & more often.

nevertheless, i still feel lucky to live here.
i still love madness manor–more even now that i have seen her handle this flood.

contrary

i want love
i am not lovable
i want a man in my life
men suck
i want a relationship
no one wants to be near me

there’s a quick trip into my head. yay–fun! sometimes i’m all–yes! time to open up to the possibility of love. usually quickly followed by–who the fuck would ever love me?
my tarot cards are predicting a time of relationship building…& i did see a tall dark stranger on a walk in my hometown….
but of course i’m being ridiculous.
i will die a lonely mom.

do random thoughts make good comics?

comic to be titled: how am i supposed to have any hope for the human race?

panel one: i dyed my hair blonde once
panel two: country singers invited me to their motel rooms
panel three: boys fought each other to walk me home
panel four: it wasn’t even that good of a dye job

here is my efforts to turn random thoughts into an art form.
does it work?
at least it keeps me entertained….

note…only one country singer invited me to come to his motel room

to do list

1.) finish my house
2.) take over the world

not remembering my mindset when i wrote this…but it’s pretty easy to guess.
i like this mindset. granted it is going to take me quite awhile to finish my house….

broken

when you grow up broken
how do you learn to feel
whole?
when you grow up without
love
how do you learn to be
loved?

this thought was prompted by watching the second season of the end of the f***ing world (a very good netflix show.)

of course it is a thought that made a lot of sense to me. i wonder…do i even know what love feels like? my tarot cards are telling me of relationships…of moving past being injured to value myself & allow myself to be valued. but what does that look like?
do you think i can draw a picture of that?

help me

help me, mother
help me, father
i cry to the parents
i never had
the parents who
never taught me
how to be
help me, cosmic mama
show me, cosmic da
be gentle
with me
hold me; soothe me
chase away my demons.

this might be my admitting that i do need parents. the parents i got were pretty bad. some moments of good…but all in all, a crapfest. is it too late for me to appeal to some universal parents? to admit that i can’t do this on my own?

i did find myself watching a woodpecker outside the window of my house as it ate ants off of a fruiting tree, thinking to myself, my dead dad led me here…to this house. thinking that maybe it was a gift from him, from wherever he is now. an apology? an attempt to not be a shitstorm of a dad?

maybe if i open myself up to the parenting that i have been refusing ever since i figured out my parents where not going to give me what i needed (sadly, i figured this out at a very young age)…maybe if i open myself up now to being parented? maybe….

wishes

i spend all of my wishes
desperately
holding my family
together
every wish on every star
to counter act
the wishes they make
against each other
against themselves
every eleven eleven
a prayer for a truce
an end to the fighting
i have no wishes
left over
for me.

this is kind of a reflection of something a lot of parents go through, i think. giving everything to your children & having nothing left despite the advice of self-care for better parenting…

i suppose every family fights? i have only known two families, my birth family & the one i have made. it seems that fighting is genetic.
but still it empties me out. watching siblings torture each other & then cry that they are not loved….

and then i wonder if it is my fault. if i have done something to make peace an unattainable goal. if my monstrosity is what fuels their bitter fights. something they learned from me despite all my efforts to not be a monster…. especially when i find myself wishing i could make a wish for me sometimes.

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