as long as the day is running i am calm and complete; i get restless as sun sets. i have my little tricks to soothe the wounds that burn under the black of night. i have my books, and i have my songs; i have my legs to carry me away from this room. i have so much, i don't know what to do with them sometimes. 

i am not confused.
i just can't be bothered to make any decisions right now.
if this is a phase, that's fine; if this is my true form, so be it; i enjoy floating anyways.

i don't love you despite who you are;
i love every little thing that adds up to you.

i have a mother who wants to be a crane operator.

i keep leaving my glasses here, there, everywhere.
i keep going back to the places i have just left.
i say my goodbyes, i gather my pieces and i leave.
shortly after, there i am again. "i left my glasses."
i walk the same roads twice.  i say my goodbyes twice.
sometimes i even have my last drink twice.
i am really the fish the bastard glasses make me feel like.

i am a fish in a dirty aquarium.
i swim. i forget. i swim again.

all i want is to lay down on the grass with a bottle of jack. 
all i want is to feel warm inside while the joy of life does cartwheels around me.
no worries though, i'll settle for strange conversations at a strange bar with strangers who light up when i smile.

sometimes you need company. the kind of company that pushes you to abandon your true reactions. the ones who have never met your different faces. the ones who has only seen you smile and tell stories. the ones that never got to hear the truth but were never deceived by lies either.

most people like me upon meeting me. of course there are those who are deeply intuitive and sense the chaos that is my soul, those tend to be wary of my friendship. but, most people like me immediately. i didn't have to read a self-help book, i knew how to connect with people instinctively. i've always looked people in the eye; except for a few dark years, i was always quick to smile; and i always knew exactly when someone needed affection. i knew how to ask the right questions at the right time, i knew how not to pry, and yes, i always knew how to keep a secret. all these came naturally to me, i knew who needed love when, and i knew everybody deserved some kindness. this wasn't an act, it still isn't an act. i was born a big ball of love and understanding. things just got messy because the words "love" and "understanding" are human inventions, thus their definitions lack certainty. over the years, i built a new face from scratch so that less people feel connected to me. i am interested in everything and anything, any kind of thought process and information fascinates me. most people fascinate me. but i have learned to disguise my fascination so that i don't fool them with the illusion that i'll be the one that makes them feel amazing for the rest of their lives. i know how that story ends. i am a narcissist, with deep imperfection issues. the ones who stay around long enough can't miss it. then they feel cheated, tricked. they get hurt and angry. thus, i become the enemy. that's the loop of my own relationship with myself. i wouldn't wish it for anybody else. so this new face that i have built, which is actually an act, is a smiling book that reads itself out loud. i smile and tell stories that do not belong to me. i tell stories that i wouldn't choose to tell. i almost become an "interesting facts" show. i don't touch anyone, i don't share any personal insights. i do not voice any opinions. if the company is smart enough to sense my lack of character, i play the oldest trick in the book, and i mimic them. this one is different than the times i mimic my real friends. every healthy relationship needs a doze of mimicking, mostly to keep the powers in balance, mostly to avoid any unnecessary frictions, mostly to prove mutual presence. this one is different, because it is planned. with my friends, with my beloveds i do it instinctively. most of the time their well being is at utmost importance, and my existence responds accordingly. but this one is a parlor trick, a cheap attempt to calm the nerves. my words are empty balloons circling us, and to stop you from popping them i sit there mimicking your every move. i sip when you take a sip, i sigh when you sigh, i recline when you recline. and you feel connected to me just enough so that you don't question your lack of any substantial information about me. when we are done, you might remember the stories i told, but you won't remember me. at least not enough to yearn for my company.

sometimes you need to be empty of yourself. you need to forget your past and ignore your future. you need to stitch your dreams to your pillow and walk about without them. you can still exist without your emotions. you can still communicate sans your true voice.

i'll smile. you'll smile. then we'll all go home. i won't remember your name, you won't know why you had fun.

time to linger/float and breathe...

let's get one thing straight, dear; i do not forget, and i do not forgive. i just have enough compartments within to protect me from my wrath, and to protect you from my vengeance. i can't spare any energy to be angry all the time. and i have to admit, none of us is flawless enough to judge and bestow mercy on one another. i have done far worse shit and have met enough monsters to know not everything is personal. i might forget that in fragile moments, blind days, or through lovesick months -well, i might act as if i have forgotten- but the core of my being always knows: life is hard enough without blaming others. hearts break and heal, tears evaporate. curses, pleas, and shrieks stop echoing through our ribcages. 

omnia mutantur nihil inherit.

let's get one thing straight, dear; i do not forget, and i do not forgive. i just choose to recall smiles, and those fleeting moments that i felt safe. i never feel safe. life is an ongoing battle that i wade through shedding as little blood as possible. i do shed mine in abundance mind you, it is others' i try to spare. i am always safe. the world is my merry-go-around. i jump from horse to horse, and help anyone who needs a hand. i don't lose my balance as long as we keep on spinning. i don't need to sleep, and my skin tingles from being numb too long. i am safe for none can truly touch me. i am safe for when i fall, the pain is mine.

in the woods

a night in your arms,
after a day of freedom
new places possess.

my body inches towards you,
my nose eager for your skin.
-a hound sniffing her way back home-
i follow your mouth.
i follow your breath.
i fall asleep...

this is a limbo
i am not stuck in it
i built it around me

i breathe slowly, and quietly
through my familiar darkness
she-who-has-been-dismissed
runs her fingers through my hair
her scent grabs a hold of me
she always smells of wild-flowers

i can run, i can puke, i can scream
i will float, i will drink, i will smile

friends fly around the house
they yearn to be close to me
the black-hole pull of my existence
"now, tonight, tomorrow"
urgency breaking his voice
"let's go, get ready, need you"
determination heavy in her eyes

i can be mean, i can scream
i will be nice, i will smile

i am fine in my purple lake
the limbo didn't swallow me
i built it to keep me awake

:)

"The river always called to be visited after dark, the fields needed to be walked in so they could make their rustle-talk. Fires needed to be built in the forest at night, and stories needed to be told outside the hearing of grownups." (p3)
 
(about women who have found the 'wild woman' within) "They know instinctively when things must die and when things must live; they know how to walk away; they know how to stay." (p6)

Estes, Clarissa Pinkola: Women Who Run With the Wolves, Ballantine Books, New York, 1995

sometimes you need endings to find new beginnings.

booklog: Women Who Run With the Wolves

Many names of the "Wild Woman"

(Spanish)
Rio Abajo Rio: the river beneath river
La Mujer Grande: the great woman
Luz del abismo: the light from the abyss
La Loba: the wolf woman
La Huesera: the bone woman

(Hungary)
Ö, Erböden: She of the woods
Rozsomàk: The Wolverine

(Navajo)
Na'ashjé'ii Asdzàà: The Spider Woman, who weaves the fate of humans and animals and plants and rocks.

(Guatemala)
Humana del Niebla:The Mist Being, the woman who has lived forever.

(Japan)
Amaterasu Omikami: The Numina, who brings all light, all conciousness.

(Tibet)
Dakini: the dancing force which produces clear-seeing within women.

Estes, Clarissa Pinkola: Women Who Run With the Wolves, Ballantine Books, New York, 1995, p7

a single ray of sun touches my eyes and all is peachy. 

it is the small things, child, small things that make a difference. a split second can lift you out of the gutter. your soul may have nested down there, but you still dive up to the skies just because.

it is yet another countdown to yet another age of you, child. enjoy your numbers while you can. cherish your mistakes, but please don't over glorify your newly found faces. try and try again, you did through 27. i know it looks like you are left with zilch. but trust me little one, you were never a zero, not since the moment you were conceived.

it was a year full of surprises. horror shows, masquerades, walkabouts, rocket launches, sunken city dives, bungee jumps of existence secured themselves in you with each stitch of 27. remember that shooting star of the new year's eve? a year full of bliss and glory you had wished upon, forgetting the fleeting nature of  bliss, and the blood dripping war glories of history. bliss and glory you got, child; you got what you wished for. you were still a little reckless through 27, and thus you know you can afford to be reckless. you don't lose your head as easily as you feared. through all that noise you remained fairly quiet and white. you secured a sheath of white this year, a white cloak to dim your darkness.

you know a lot, child; fortunately you'll never know all.

8 is mine, smiles are mine. 

i know what i want for my birthday, and i also know i won't get it. peachy keen.