Coke and naps.

I had a nap today, my night time sleep is interrupted and I wake up shivering in the early hours of the morning.

I am moving to an apartment for 3 weeks, then in a hotel for a month! I need to deep clean the house, pack everything up and move my stuff to a storage locker.

Thankfully, Aimee is coming over tomorrow. 4-5 friends coming over Wednesday.

I am completely overwhelmed and needy. I bought totes, have been blowing money, need to pay the electric bill, buy a storage locker, etc.

These are first world problems. Need to eat less, it helps deal with stress but I have no desire to gain weight.

I think I need to call comcast and get the cable turned on at the apartment. I also need to call DTE to get the electricity here turned off and I guess it wont be till August that I will have it in my name.

I love this house and will miss it. Its the prettiest house I've ever lived in. Going to take some getting used to, living in a smaller house. Onwards and upwards and give me energy to do what needs to be done.

Almonds and orange juice

That is what my day entails. All the while I am ignoring the big issues. Moving in a week and a half, needing to pack again, the 2nd time in 4 months, to go to a new place that isn't as child friendly as here. It isn't easy. My lot is not easy. I can't seem to bring myself to pack and clean. My daughter is over and out with her friend. I am missing my boyfriend. Its been a month since we were together. I asked him to help me move and received silence in response. If I can't count on him when I need him, then what is left to do?

I have to leave my house more often, being here reminds me of all my responsibilities. Heavy with anxiety and pins and needles and sleepiness.

But being too worked up to sleep during the day.

I noticed tiny scratches on my glasses. I worry too much. I have to keep telling myself 'This is your life, make it good.' For so long I just put my head down and marched forward, waiting for the day my star would shine.

Now I realize that I have to shine my own star and have faith someone will notice.

I was thinking about Rand today because Peter Gabriel's 'Solsbury Hill' was on. I want to stand outside his house playing that song in hopes of reminding him of how brilliant he is and that I
hold him the utmost respect.

He could of been a guru. Instead he married a woman with cancer and draws faces on his kids lunch paper bags. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

It seems so undoable to have to move in 14 days. I am starting to fill totes but still, dang, its overwhelming. I must march on though.

It has been a rough coupla months. Dealing with my own bad chemicals and trying to be the best Mom I can be. I feel the distance in my daughter. I am so tired of taking medicine. Each morning I have to ready myself for the pill onslaught. 3 pills for depression, one birth control, and a anti anxiety med. That said, Ive weaned myself off 2 meds in the past 6 months. Less IS more!

I have a typewriter on my arm and the word 'Write' below it. The word is in my own handwriting. I should look at it to get motivated. Writers write. It is that simple. Making my dream of writing a good book is within reach. Just need to get past all the emotional baggage that keeps me from it.

When I lost you, I couldn't pin a time or place.
More like an old beaten up car, pieces kept falling off.
We came together, tightly, then sprung back.
The days became weeks and I held on tight.
Till I realized for the 100th time that day, you
have to live life to its fullest. You can't hide.
We all have a right to be loved as we wish to
be loved. I simply cant love at a distance all
the time.

I'd shake your hand but I will probably never see you.
You'll marry someone less colorful, succumbing
to missionary position and watching tv in bed.
It will seem like quite the life.

Warmth

Quiet moments drawing close
We pause and remember the
beauty of warmth,  from
hearth, campfire,

We give each other warmth
A hug is warm
A handshake
Bodies meeting bodies

Somewhere my warmth awaits
No longer heater blanketed
I stand out in the chill
Waiting for your warmth. Thank you.

I was laying in my bed, watching the sun go away, with sunburnt promises of tomorrow. The ravioli marched down through my intestines and with every stressful thought my heart pounded.

I am the queen of finishing nothing. The prince of self sabotage.

I had this guy and then I didn't. He would never come to visit, it was weird. We would text all day, then he would say that he had his kids, every single day, he would also not come over till 7 or 8. It is was weird. I am sure there is alot more to it.

Usually we text each other all day. I didn't hear anything from him today though I texted and emailed him.

He is a nice guy. Has been there for me in his own way. He never came to the hospital.

Trying to untangle himself from me. Yeah that must be it. Less and less, like how you wean yourself off anything.

Taking less and less till there lingers nothing.

I always thought I was a great Mother. Till I realized that my teenager has a list of stuff I did to harm him or whatever, he doesn't see the 80% that was good.

This is a time of reckoning and transition. 

Please God, show me the way.
 

So you want to be a writer

Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.