blessings

Back to a blanket on a grassy little knoll in a park approaching sunset, there's a kid's running club and three mushrooms watching me. The sunlight rapidly warms your body, the shade cools you down quickly. I am laying in and intersecting the light and the shadows, breaking the thin boundaries between.

Deneice confronted me again today in her passive agressive way. Told me Cheryl was ready to move out of the Yardley household because of all the drinking and drugs. Not only have I not gotten drunk since my birthday, but Deneice is equating the hookah to drug use. I feel I've met a fully matured case of neuroticism. And it takes one to know one, or at least takes living with one to recognize one. Little does she know Cheryl will probably leave because of her, long before she'll leave because of drinking and drugs.

Air is a funny girl. Very much a girl, and above all so young in the heart, but immature in the soul. And all of this frustrates me, gets to the thin parts below my skin. What could I ever say? I don't understand what I feel, but it's some sort of jealousy. Envy of an innocent strength, immaculate freedom. To have emotions projected with only the guilt of innocence, the shame of freedom.

And there is a disconnect. I want to do things with her, but she says she can't be around people living at her house. I was given fair warning, but unless it's liquors or errands I somehow become involved in she could be less interested. Fair warnings or not, I wish there were better reasoning behind it - but people, women above all, are far from bound by such a quizzical human desire. But let it be, there are many fish in the sea, though rarely have I glimpsed such creatures.
As one fish, however, all I can do is perceive. Eat or perceive; in an ocean of fish all the same there is not much else to do but sink, swim, or suffocate.

My dad's business is in another trough on it's tumble down. That much has already been known. I have a $275 drinking in public fine I have now ignored for three weeks. It's warrant time. I've been trying hard to forget: this entry is all the proof needed.

Have run out of all supplements except for piracetam, aniracetam, fish oil, and choline. I haven't taken any of these for several days now. I think I was feeling better, perhaps it was the SAMe. But the mood for this month has certainly been making a belly dive. My outlook is not really hopeful, more passive and acrobatic - I am juggling a few sober options, my only options. Stay here and see where this road goes, see what triumph and defeat will reveal to me. Go home in January and go to community college. Go home and still be a basket case. I don't see any other lands for me.

Still haven't been able to write worth shit, draw anything worth while, photograph anything pleasing. I have just been letting things come into me, closing whatever creative gates which weren't rusted close before. Only music has been left open, in and out.

under a quilt of cloud furs
shifting and breathing
who could stand in her lands
where the woven grass trembles

who could stand to listen
to the buttons squeezed through the holes
of the rumpled sweater she wears
to work with a smile, a heart all the while

and you would rather file your nails
to a neurotic rythm of dials
be teased by glory, epitome
enlightened, tightened around her wrist, all hers

a dizzying cycle into the horizon
drawn in the scratch of a child's crayon
it's a bliss and ignorance sewn into beauty
blessed and wretched in the presence of hazy glory

what's hers will be hers
loving and being
who could know their way through her hands
heroines' tales will tell to be fables