I have to apologize for my last entry.
Well, not apologize for the words themselves. But for the mood they were said in, and the effect they had on someone else.
You see, I have difficulty, sometimes, with telling people what i'm feeling. The feelings boil over into bitchiness, irrittion, a need to be alone. I want to disappear into my cave, roll a boulder over the entrance, and sit in the dark till i feel better.
i don't get to do that too often, so the other way to fix it is to actually talk with the other person about how i'm feeling. And when i have to do that, there's a little part of me that runs around with its little hands flapping, yelling, "communication! AIUGH! Anything but that!"
And there are times when i need to take a step back, pull a geographic, go somewhere where nobody's going to talk to me for a while, somewhere where i can be by myself. Some solitude, some comfort.
But we talked, last night, and got things straightened out between us. And when he tells me to go do whatever I need to do, I can feel that he actually means it and isn't just saying it.
Which is a lovely, wonderful thing.
I feel much better, now.
So I'm taking a mini-vacation in a little over a week.Usually, when i do this, I go to Vancouver. Right now, though, the border crossing takes three hours, which isn't something I really want to do.
So I'm running to the sea.
To a place I'm telling only a couple of people about, where the Pacific roars at the rugged coast, with a window facing the ocean. I'll walk on the beach, taste the salt spray, talk to the ocean and listen to what it has to say.
The Pacific has always been a place where I've found peace. Something about the sound of the surf reminds me that no mater how important i may be to myself, i am merely a speck of dust in the overall scheme of creation. The knowledge, somehow, comforts me.
My dreams are filled with water; I was born with a magnetic attraction to bodies of water, from puddles on up. I live on the shore of a lake, and many of my childhood memories are of the ocean.
I've always gone to the water to sort myself out. In water, I am graceful; years of choral training gave me the ability to hold my breath for long periods of time. The thump and hiss of the surf soothes all of the prickly somethings in my breain and in my heart, and I sleep, breathing in time with the water.
I have a lot of things to work out in my own mind. Where I am, where i'm going, what i want and don't want. There are things i want to think about in the absence of the distractions of my daily life.
I want to learn how to be easy in my own skin, again.
I like the idea of taking a notebook to the ocean, and writing down whatever I feel like talking about. Solitude helps me enjoy the rich life I participate in, and every so often, i need a larger dose of it than usual.
yearendI resolve
to be a mythology of presence
to be larger than life and perhaps
have my own talk show because fame
is its own rewording;to pay off my credit cards
and the cards of 40
of my closest friends;to make long hot border-runs
with sexy people I barely know
and smuggle them into Canada
because a good deed gathers no moss;to overturn judicial decisions
and perhaps a few judges
and see what they wear
underneath their robes;to shake out the dust of the city
and dance all night in clubs
that smell like sweat and drugs
go to concerts and be a sideshow,
learn how to breathe fire
hang out with tweakers
tresspass, break and enter
ignore KEEP OUT signs
and perish in a puddle
of radioactive goo.I resolve
to live an exciting life
or die trying.At least, till January 15th.
—12/30/99
how goes the war?
restless in the camp.
