fact # 8

a demon can't scare a demon

fact #7

there are those of us who are completely comfortable with creating our own mythology. 

fact #6

the ability to have pity is sometimes the singular barometer of a person not being a total asshole; meaning, not being totally out of touch with what it means to be human. (ie: sharing a common body.)

( the ability to ask oneself "how would i feel if this were happening to me?")

(no, not empathy. pity. i meant what i said.)

fact #5

what so many don't seem to understand is how much strength, fortitude, determination, and resilience it has taken for a person like me, who has had the past and upbringing that i have had, to ascend to the realm of normal American modus operendi and to be adept at doing the work of a regular laymen's existence. (this is acknowledgement of fact, not Victim's Language.) 

(further more, Alex looked me in the eye and proudly declared: "when i think of what you've been through, i am so happy and astounded and glad that you did not detonate your own life." 

it felt very nice to be understood along such an uncomfortable, realistic line.)

fact #4

if everything were to have gone perfectly, meaning happily and without rupture or hardship, i'd have relatively few things of value to offer my fellow human beings. 

fact #3

i don't give a shit about your money.

for just a moment, suppose:

i'm not "figuring things out." i'm living my life and doing the work of it. having the fun of it. learning how to enjoy it without guilt. learning how to grind without self-pity. learning how to suffer - brilliantly, rather than angrily - growing and dying and breathing and going, going, going.

there's nothing for me to apologize for.  at least not in this regard.  so what if my title is humble and my needs are few?  i look out the window onto my street and reach for my coffee and feel so lucky.  i drempt of this moment for so many years. now that i have it, i will not erase my delight in it by allowing the opinions and preferences of others more weight than my own.  i have my own expectations for myself and my own private demons to corral. i have no excuses to offer for my behavior.  i accept full responsibility.  if i have been mean, i say i'm sorry.  but to thwart another's expectations is not an act of cruelty. i do not say i'm sorry for being a waitress, for spending long mornings scribbling in my diary, for plucking a guitar badly.  my title is humble and my needs are few.  i am a happy woman.

for free

so what if i'm a loser?

that's almost the point.

i'm teaching myself how to breathe.

actually.

in.  out.

it sounds so simple until you stop

sit still

and listen to the inward draw.

the mean, mad thoughts fire up.

but i am choosing not to busy myself to silence them.

i am choosing to sit here and strive for no greater result.

i am teaching myself how to breathe without having to earn it first.




because the definitions for love and friendship and family and safety and belonging have always been contingent.  so much so that i can't seem to shake it.  even i am making me earn the gift of love. even i am making me earn my right to live another day.  and that's exactly what i'm trying to stop.



i just want to sit here

and to not worry

that if i never sell another painting again

people will stop loving me.

i want to sit here

and scribble in my diary

and not worry that people will go away

if i never write a book.

i want to sit here

and enjoy the way the light slices through these shitty blinds,

falls across my hands,

and reminds me of my mother's.

i want to sit here

and listen to music all afternoon

and all night long

and regard someone else's art with the esteem it deserves.



can't enjoyment be a worthy cause?

can't enjoyment be a purpose?  a pursuit?

can't i chase the end of my perfectionism

and finally learn how to just breathe?



i do not want any brass ring.

nor any golden carrot.

i want love and friendship and belonging

and i want it for free.

no resume.

no bribery.

just you.

just me.

fact #2

i don't miss you at all.

fact #1

i have been missing you for such a long time now