i was going to say something, but then all the something turned into nothing. we drink five dollar wine on my bed and talk about how we don’t want to feel lonely. and we talk about love so much that i’m not sure it even exists anymore. my legs fall asleep from sitting indian style for too long. that, and i just have really bad circulation. tonight the world doesn’t bend or break carrying any of our words, and our chests fill with the weight of all these answers we can’t see. but we’re alive, and it’s raining outside. so we drink our wine and laugh.

get me outta here. my bones ache and my legs are bound to get spider veins with all this sitting. how long does it actually take to develop those? i keep closing my eyes to stop them from crossing. but they just keep falling towards each other, pulling my eyelids as they go. i’d give anything to just lay down in my soft bed and stay there till winter. to let all the curling sinews loose in these muscles of mine; all the thoughts swirling around inside my head out. i need to get some pouring done. but i can’t do a damn thing just sitting at this desk watching the glow of my computer screen get more and more blurred. and this is my life. this is not my life. i live in the ephemeral space between here and there, constantly bursting and constantly fading. wake me up. cuz in the morning i’ll be making a brand new map and these tired limbs will be flailing towards a brand new day. i’m alive goddamn it.

today i was just happy. the kind of happy that stretches my heart out across all my insides and all i can do is smile and pray to god that i can somehow hold it all together long enough to still feel it in the morning.

black & blue//chris garneau

i sweat it all out, you sweat a lot too
we heart the same, the same black and blue

if there were colors to describe how i feel right now it would be black and blue.  maybe hints of purple and green mixed in between.  sometimes i feel like i’m never going to be good at being a real adult.  i just want to reach that day when my fingers don’t hurt from clenching all those things i can’t seem to control so tight.  the freedom of falling back with my arms spread wide and knowing that i won’t get hurt. 

moving makes me sentimental. i’m all melty and clingy and i can’t decide whether to be scared or brave or just alive. all of the sudden i miss everyone and everything. it’s like saying goodbye to a dear friend; watching them get smaller and smaller out of the rear window as i drive away into something brighter..something better. everything is changing but nothing has changed.

my walls are bare and the edges of the floor are lined with boxes. i haven’t really thought about it until now but this is one of the last nights i’ll spend here. it’s a strange thought; to leave behind all the things i’ve kept between these walls. all the nights spent creating and escaping, hiding and emerging, loving and being loved, living and dying. all these nights, all these moments..saying goodbye. maybe that’s why i can’t seem to fall asleep. all i can do is lay here, staring into the darkness and straight into each one of them, knowing that somehow over the course of these past four years, they’ve somehow made me who i am. i can’t hate them, but i can’t seem to love them entirely either. all i can do is pack them away with the rest of my things and take them with me, and keep on living. but goddamn if i ever forget them. they’ve burned themselves into every nook and cranny in my entire being.

i’ve got that feeling again; that feeling that comes every so often in life, where panic sets deep inside your stomach because you know that things are about to be more perfect than they have been in a long time. and then the joy comes. that bursting, skin splitting joy. the thought of life being in order, even if it is only slight order, makes me want to throw up; makes me want to finally let out that breath i’ve been holding in for the past few months. it makes me want to live again. it means i’ll start to fall in love with everything; the way the sun leaks thru my windows in the morning, the sound of the crickets at night, the way the air feels in the summer, the way a thousand faces can all look completely different and beautiful. i’ll start to get all ‘splody from all the living i’ll be doing, and before i know it i’ll be a whole human again. it’ll be great, so fucking great.

sometimes i wish i could swap my brain with my heart and vice versa.  there’s just certain days where that heart of mine gets me into trouble, and other days where my brain could just explode because it’s got so many things running rampant all inside of it.  but most days my heart is inside my brain.  and i can’t do a damn thing about it.  

chaos ensues.  order remains.  it’s all just a part of the process.

i wrote this over a year ago and recently came across it.  thought i’d post it.  i found it pretty intriguing because it just reminded me that no matter how much i change as a person, the core of me is still the same.. clearly.

——-  january 30, 2009

when i was in the elevator today, i wondered what it would be like to be trapped inside of it with a pregnant lady who just happened to go into labor. oh believe me, i was just as appalled as you are by that thought. it’s weird, but i think a lot of crazy things in elevators. mostly, i think i do this because i really am quite terrified of them. “oh god! we’re plummeting to our deaths and there’s nothing we can do about it!” “why are we stopping? why.. all the lights went out, and why are we stopping? we’re not moving!” “shit! the elevators broken and i’m trapped inside here with this pregnant lady! oh god! she’s going into labor!”

things like that. twenty-one seconds one way. a lot could happen in that amount of time. i need help. otis knew what he was doing when he built these things. i should trust him.

sometimes i hear a song and imagine that it was me that wrote it; me that was singing it, and playing it. i secretly wish i was a rock star. or at least just a bad ass musician that was actually good. someday i’ll find myself up on some stage, and i’ll sing a song i wrote and it will be good. i’ll forget i even existed and yet i’ll feel more alive than i ever have.

funny how nothing has changed and yet everything is changing. i could have told you that a long time ago, when you were alive, and it would have meant something. but now you’re dead, metaphorically speaking, and nothing gets through to your soul. there was that time when you stirred me. you kept me alive when i needed it most, and i think i did the same for you. it was the first day of my life. we felt as if we’d just woke up.. well i’m still glad i didn’t die before i met you. so wake up. aren’t you glad you didn’t die before you met me again? this is the second first day of your life.. let it be the last.

put a heart around my neck, and if you need it to feel something, you can borrow it. i don’t mind. but if i lose it, just promise me you’ll grow me another one. twenty-one seconds and my life will never be the same. i just saw a baby born. and none of these other people have the slightest clue. i just came to. 11.

and this is the first day of my life.

———-

ok.  again, i wake up and everything is brand new all over again.