inside me

inside me
electric
i feel
so much
i feel
everything
deep
deeper
it’s all inside
me
the whole world
inside me
& i can feel
all of it.

i don’t know about you other ladies out there, but my ovulation rocks. will i miss it when it goes away? or is there something else out there in my crone years–a different electricity?

the more i open myself up to feel, the more i feel. it can be pretty awesome. i have noticed this pattern of feeling extra open & extra electric a couple of weeks after my period.
wow.
so now i have to figure out how to understand & accept this open & alive feeling without compromising myself. how to celebrate my fertility & not just give it away to someone else.
you know, unless i make a conscious decision to–instead of letting my ovaries do my thinking for me.
because as soon as i feel that electric feeling, i start looking for someplace to put it. and maybe i just need to hold onto it. harness it into my life, my art, my creations…so, like, instead of manifesting something in my uterus…i want to use that energy to manifest something in my art, in my day, in my world.

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keeping my tomorrows

i used to think
as our song said
“i would trade all my tomorrows
for one single yesterday”
but today
today i realized
as i proclaimed myself
free from my own
haunting
i realized
i want all of my tomorrows
all of them
i don’t want my
yesterdays
the past is gone
but tomorrow
tomorrow is a new day
a new day
with you.

before i quit facebook, i had a male friend tell me, “you can do better” in regards to my obsession with seymour.
i don’t know if this friend knew my obsession was with seymour & disapproved of seymour (i knew them both in the same years & in the same town…but i didn’t know this friend very well at the time) or if he was just poo-pooing decades old obsessions in general.
said friend than went on to say, “but of course, janis joplin spent her entire career obsessed with one guy.”
what a coincidence. because it is janis joplin that sings the song that seymour & i would always call our song…”me & bobby mcgee.”

in the shower just now, singing that song, i was thinking…we should have picked a different song. but you know how it is when you are young and nothing can possibly go wrong with your enchanted romance.
later in our relationship, i picked a different song for us. one that felt like i felt when i was with seymour… like christmas.

and after we broke up…i stuck with the cyndi lauper to describe how i felt and this was the song that i related to seymour. (yes, i know it is actually a prince song…but my favorite version is the one cyndi lauper sings)

it was only recently–in the past handful of heartbreaking years with dusty–that i started feeling haunted by “me & bobby mcgee”…finding myself thinking that i actually would trade my tomorrows to have a day already gone just to be next to seymour again.
which is not a good way to feel…that kind of remorse & regret. it’s a dark place. a sad place.

so!
i am pleased to report that i don’t want to trade my tomorrows anymore.
i don’t.
i want to keep my tomorrows.
i want to hold onto my hope & tell regret to fuck the fuck off already.

queen of swords II

before my whole fucktardery with dusty…
while my witchy friend was visiting, she & i read each other’s tarot cards. my near future card was the queen of swords. a card that often shows up in my spread–especially regarding dusty. the queen of swords has a high moral position and expects others to live up to it as well.
so is this a good thing?
a bad thing?
just a thing?
it’s true of me. i do expect a lot of myself & the same from others. dusty has never hesitated to fall under my sword.
then i’m all like–am i being too cruel? expecting too much? not accepting him for who he is?

fuck that.

i am the queen of swords.

off with his head.

as i protect myself & re-enforce walls that i had to build after letting him break my heart too many times, dusty does a dance & tries to appeal to my nurturing side. he is trying to get me to rescue him. he wants me to save him. he is trying to be sad & helpless while never admitting that he has done anything wrong.

so i’m going to go ahead & hold onto that queen of swords
because even though i am hurting right now
i know i am going to recover again
faster this time
& i need to make sure i finally remember this lesson
remember this heartbreak
& not let it happen again
seriously
for real this time.

if you’re not nice to the mama…

“i’m a good father!”
he tells me
& tells me
& tells me
and to paraphrase shakespeare,
i think the fellow doth protest too much.
who is he trying to convince?
and i say to him,
“but you are a crappy partner.”
and something eggs at me
until i realize
you can’t be a crappy partner
and a good father
you just can’t…
to be a good father
you have to be good
to their mother.

(i had a full post written…and i lost it. so now i’m pissed off & trying to remember what awesome things i had written….)

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dusty came for the weekend because it was misha’s birthday and maybe–just maybe–i was trying to sabotage myself because i was feeling too happy…too healthy…too on top of my life….

was i trying to sabotage me?

well, if i was, it didn’t work! the day after he left i finished my application for the sustainable arts award for moms who are artists &/or writers. i got my shit together and even figured out how to make a pdf file of my pages of moses jones.
two days after he left, i finished all my rough drafts for “mistress of mud.”

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of course, why he was here, i was sick to my stomach. literally. nauseated the entire time. so so sick.
my body does that.
if my brain won’t listen…my body goes on strike and some sort of illness manifests. so many boyfriends have resulted in flu symptoms.
meanwhile, dusty is telling me what a good dad he is and thinking that my passivity due to nausea means i am flirting with him?

holy crap.

we were having a good conversation one night. we went out and watched the moon rise and stars fall out of the sky. it was amazing & awesome and we were there together.
then
i was like, “okay, i’m going to bed” seeing as i am always up at sunrise and pretty much always sleep deprived.
and it was a light switch.
gone was nice dusty
& out came hostile dusty.
fuck that bullshit.
he thinks we are going to somehow someday have some fucking happily ever after? and if i don’t reciprocate, i get treated like garbage?
i don’t want to lead him on. i want to be honest with him that it is over and would take a miracle of biblical proportions for us to ever be a couple again…
but i am afraid of his reaction.
i feel stupid for it. silenced.
why can’t i be civil to him without  him thinking that means he is going to get laid?
i want to be able to say, “no” without it turning into an attack on me.
fuck this bullshit.

fuck it.

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