Friday, Dec. 28, 2001

resolved

A deaf person came to my door with a little card that said “Hello I am a deaf person I am selling this Deaf Education System card to make my living. WILL YOU KINDLY BUY ONE? PAY ANY PRICE YOU WISH! Thank you!
I got a dollar bill while he stood on my doorstep and wrote on it:
“Hello I am a sad person selling this lonely heart to find life again. WILL YOU KINDLY BUY IT? IT IS FREE IF YOU WISH! Thank you for taking it away.”
I handed him the dollar, he signed, “thank you” (I know because it was on the card!) And he and his deaf companion read my dollar bill and he turned around and made the Universal sign for pray.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just a brief poem for Dark:

Maybe

You’re right I have done this before.
Maybe I’m not the girl you always thought I was.
Maybe I’m not sweet and nice
and maybe I’m just plain needy and cruel.
Maybe I’m unsure how to deal with the issues
and want to just not have to.

Maybe it saps too much from me
sometimes to worry about you and for you.
Maybe I just want to be happy
and something about it all
doesn’t make me happy anymore.

It makes me angry and sad.
And those are two things
I’ve had my fill of.
Maybe I just can’t do
it all anymore.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be sorry,
but today I feel that
even though I’m teetering
on a wire about it all,
I have to step forward or I will fall.

Maybe I worry too much
about making you smile
and too little about my own frown.
Maybe I wish I could just
go back to the way it used to be.

I always remember things as being
happier in the past
than what they are in the present.

Maybe its just too hard.
Maybe I’m just too involved
with me.

Maybe I’ve lost my pretty voice
For soothing melody
And I don’t know what to say
To you anymore.

Maybe I’m just silenced
Maybe that’s just the way
it maybe has to be.


I was thinking this morning about my new New Year’s Resolutions. Unlike last year I am challenging myself to do far more than I did before.


They are…..
Write that novel with my whole soul and a total absence of fear.

Write for no one but myself.

Don’t put up with peoples shit just because you think you have to.

Don’t worry about what someone else thinks, they most likely be long gone when my days are numbered.

Stop analyzing everything everyone says to you.

Realize that being rejected is truly just another person denying his or her own issues.

Read books on “writing” with the vigor of a hungry baby with no bottle.

Do NOT buy any more damn books until you’ve read the ones on your bookshelf.

Open up over the next 4 months in that Bernie office even if it kills me. After April I will most likely never see a therapist again so I need to make the most of it.

I vow to tell people truthfully how they really make me feel.

Quit worrying about everyone walking out on me. Fuck them if they leave. I’ll laugh when I close the door.

Buy an antique typewriter and a glass paperweight if that’s what it’s going to take to make me feel like a bonafide writer.

Continue to exercise daily.

Continue to eat right. Candy is not that great anyways.

Spend more time reading to Bucky. I miss that.

Spend less time online and go find the real world again.

Buy new clothes, I need to quit wearing these jeans that are 2 sizes too big. Ridicules.

I need to stop letting other people determine what mood I am going to be in. I am going to make a conscious decision to be happy everyday no matter what. And I mean “no matter what”.

See more movies.

Write more words.

Worry less.

Smile more.

Let the wind fly thru my hair and not think about how messy it’s getting but rather that the world is touching me and I’m lucky to be alive.

Paint words on new walls.

Paint regret a bright color so I can live with her without a constant fight.

Pay it forward even if no one gives me a damn thing, maybe if I give then the receiver will give and I will start a revolution.

I plan to dig out all those blank journals and notebooks I ever bought and write a poem in the front and give them away to someone I care about. I’ll never in a thousand lifetimes have time to write in them.

I plan to laugh in the face of all the things that used to bend me into feeling weak.

I plan to outstretch my arms to a new life. I plan to drop my boxes on new floors and look around and embrace “alone”. I plan to become what everyone else only wishes they could be, the me I know I am.

I also want to stop achin’ to be and just become. No more achin’. I will be smilin’.

Smilin’
PoeticaL
I could use
A shot
Your novacaine
My soul's a fuse
Blows away your name

Take this souvenir
They can't deny you were here
This scar always there
To medicate your fear


The Remedy
– Abandoned Pools

poetical at 2:02 p.m.

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