Thursday, May 18, 2017

I am the Highway

Pearls and swine bereft of me
Long and weary my road has been
I was lost in the cities
Alone in the hills
No sorrow or pity for leaving 
I feel

I am not your rolling wheels
I am the highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky

Friends and liars don't wait for me
I'll get on all by myself
I put millions of miles
Under my heels
And still too close to you
I feel

I am not your rolling wheels
I am the highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky

I am not your blowing wind
I am the lightning
I am not your autumn moon
I am the night
The night

I am not your rolling wheels
I am the highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky

I am not your blowing wind
I am the lightning
I am not your autumn moon
I am the night
The night

Monday, May 15, 2017


All I've ever wanted was a 9-5 job and traffic to complain about. Whats better is when the rain makes things worse, and everyone is locked together like a giant singular organism. Sometimes I'll pretend I'm a white blood-cell zooming through an animal body, then buildup on the edges slows things down. Finally we pass the bottleneck and start to move quickly again.

All I've ever wanted was oil changes and flat tires. To shop seasonally and actually enjoy summer for the first time in my life. To overbook my weekends to the point of exhaustion, and stay in all next weekend in order to compensate. Sometimes I'll shut myself away for a whole month, and marvel at how much I've gotten done. To enjoy missing my friends.

All I've ever wanted was local beer, local shows, local people. To appreciate a myriad of languages and diverse faces. Whether or not you have ash on for forehead or a bindi, or just acne. To yell at my cats for being cats, and bear their scratches with a masochistic joy.

All I've ever wanted was to complain about the snow. The rain and mud. The oppressive heat and the bitter cold. The dry weather on my skin or the humidity making my clothing stick. To complain about dirty wood floors or carpet that's hard to clean. To grow my hair long and wish for it to be short. To love and hate everything on this beautiful, evolving, dynamic earth.

All I've ever wanted
Is to never be satisfied.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017


Doors are always a good metaphor, though I suppose they can be a trope when overused. That being said, I probably overuse them. I'm a sucker for the cliche'.

(warning, Locke And Key spoilers ahead)
Lately I've been wanting the Omega door tattooed on my chest (pictured below), flanked by the Alpha and Omega Keys. I want to somehow work in the Alpha lock too, but I'm still working on it. I love the metaphor - Behind this door either contains demons, or a release from demons. Unfortunately, that release from demons had a drastic side effect. Better to just keep the door shut.

I suppose its meant to acknowledge the darker side in me. Its still something I have a hard time with, or deny all together - the "demons within." Putting an image to it just seems very appropriate. It feels like something I need right now.

A door. An opportunity. A new path. A choice. A boundary. A cage?
It can represent so much.

I had a phone call with my faux mom about relationships a month or so ago. I feel like that's mostly all we talk about these days. After listening to my concerns and thoughts for a time, she then started to give me advice. I sat there patiently as she explained the concept of polyamory and open relationships, and how sometimes people can have more than one partner. I was smiling the whole time. I'm just unbelievably grateful to have a mother figure I can speak with so openly about anything. Who is very worldly in her own way, and exceedingly worldly compared most her age.
She paused, finally and said "You know all about this don't you?" and I burst out laughing. "Just a little" I said, "but you're welcome to continue." She swore at me playfully, and said something to the effect of "and here I thought I was telling you something you didn't know."
I told her it was something we had done before, and something we might do again.

Then the thought was stuck with me for a while. That thought became a suggestion. The suggestion became a conversation. Slowly but surely, we're working our way there again.

And one way or another, I think its just what we need.

A door has opened.

In my last blog post I mentioned an opportunity. Well, I had a job interview at a company in Germany, and I didn't make the cut. That would have been a dream come true.

A door has closed.

When I got back, I took an extra day off work to feel sorry for myself, then the next day I did a 180 and refocused. If I'm going to be here, I'm going to kick ass at what I do. I'll be amazing.
And after my mind settled into that acceptance, I remembered something: I work for an international company.

So I made an appointment with HR and discussed my options for working abroad. I came away feeling motivated more than ever. I'm going to kick ass at my current task, then transfer to a division in Europe. I'll start aiming my life to make this happen.

A door has opened.

Just for kicks I did a three card reading of my dragon tarot deck tonight. Its the full moon after all, and I'm trying to be at least slightly more spiritual. I put as much stock in Divination and Astrology as Hermione does, but I still find them amusing.

Past: Five of cups - Disillusionment, if you rely on the commitments of others
Present: Seven of Coins - Hard work, but approaching your harvesting time
Future: Wheel of Fortune - Abundance, faith, opportunity

Ouch. That first one is too real, dragon deck. Too real.

Gods only know what "harvest time" means for me. Am I being harvested? I'm I doing the harvesting? Is someone else harvesting stuff for me, and I get the stuff?

That would explain the third one. I'll keep working hard, and getting ready for the harvest. I'm just glad my hard work wont be for nothing.

"Abundance, faith, opportunity"

Sounds promising.

A door has opened.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Take Me Back to the Night We Met

Three years.

That's a bad number for me.
I can't ever seem to make a relationship last longer than three years. Three and a half at the most.

In about one month we'll have been together three years.

This past year has been rocky. Moving to Boston was a challenge by itself. Its been a long year of adjustment, but now we're comfortably settled in and life is progressing. Life is comfortable.

Only now that stability is threatened again. More change is in the future, and time will tell if we make it through. I may have the opportunity to move somewhere amazing. Somewhere further than I've ever been, and if I DO get this offer, its one I can't refuse. I wont refuse.

If I was a different person... if I was the person I was before my last relationship, I wouldn't take it. I would tell him: "Ask me to stay here and I will. I'll give up everything else just to stay with you."

But I can't now. I've spent my most of my life sacrificing my happiness and opportunities for others. I can't do it anymore, not for something this big. I feel bad that he missed out on being with that person, because that person would stay.

But I know, that despite that, he would never ask me to. But isn't that quality what makes him worth staying for?

I recently had a friend tell me:
"what you've done with your life since I've known you is impressive"

I love who I am. I love who I've become, and everything I've done with my life in the last three years. Most of the pent-up anger and regret that I have from the past isn't from the actions of other people - its at myself, for having put up with it for so long. For having allowed others to hurt me for so long, and not being stronger.

Well now I'm stronger. And that very strength might be what causes me to lose him.

Because like me, he'll do whats best for him.

I am not the only traveler
Who has not repaid his debt
I've been searching for a trail to follow again
Take me back to the night we met

And then I can tell myself
What the hell I'm supposed to do
And then I can tell myself
Not to ride along with you

I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you
Oh, take me back to the night we met
When the night was full of terrors
And your eyes were filled with tears

When you had not touched me yet
Oh, take me back to the night we met
I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Take me back to the night we met

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Ends of the Earth

Ends of the Earth 
 Lord Huron

Oh, there's a river that winds on forever
I'm gonna see where it leads
Oh, there's a mountain that no man has mounted
I'm gonna stand on the peak

Out there's a land that time don't command
Wanna be the first to arrive
No time for ponderin' why I'm-a wanderin'
Not while we're both still alive

To the ends of the earth, would you follow me
There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see
To the ends of the earth, would you follow me
If you will have a say my goodbyes to me

Oh, there's an island where all things are silent
I'm gonna whistle a tune
Oh, there's a desert that size can't be measured
I'm gonna count all the dunes

Out there's a a world that calls for me, girl
Headin' out into the unknown
Well if there are strangers, and all kinds of danger

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Perfect Moments

I've had several perfect moments in my life. In that respect I consider myself fortunate. Most of them have been alone. Once when I was reading a good book with my cat on my lap - it was raining outside and I had a fire going in the fireplace. A few times on my road trip across the U.S. On a day off during a slow morning with a delicious breakfast.

I had one last night too.

Christian and I went to the bar to try a new craft brew that supposedly paired well with butter cookies (spoiler: it did!). The hum of conversation got lower as we sank into our books, enjoying our drinks. No one bothered us. No one asked us what books we were reading or even commented on them. We started chatting about the "story behind the story" and what the authors are trying to convey. Is it best to know the reasoning of the author before reading the book? Should you know their history and lifestyle? Or should you just enjoy the story at face value and find your own interpretation?

I always favor the latter method, then read the author's story later. I can still enjoy the book as-is and benefit from analyzing it later.

The discussion moved on to reading books at different points in your life, and getting different meanings from it. Its fascinating how your perspective changes as you get older.

I found myself caught up in every detail, trying to memorize the moment. I always do my best to stay in the moment, but right then I couldn't. I was completely outside it; as if I was reminiscing about something that was currently taking place. I wanted to count every freckle on his face and measure every hair. I wanted to touch him and yet I couldn't bring myself to move. Everything was perfect, and I didn't want to let go of it, and moving felt like it would break the spell. The Kamakawiwo╩╗ole version of  "What a Wonderful World" was playing as the hum of the crowd died down. He was lovely; this whole moment was lovely. I could still taste the lingering beer on my tongue and feel the dryness of the paper of my book. I wanted to make sure I would never forget it.

In that moment I was just exquisitely happy.

And then it passed.

And everything continued being wonderful.

Monday, December 19, 2016

If a cat were an anxiety attack

Imagine, if you will, a cat lurking around the corner. You know its there, but it either doesn't know or doesn't care that you can see it. It crouches low, excited at your presence. Flattening itself to the ground, it briefly does its little butt wiggle, adjusting right before the pounce. You keep walking, amused, seeing it coming. Then it pounces! Dashing out from behind the corner, it runs straight at you. You take another step as it aims for your ankle. It grabs at you for less than a second before sprinting off, feeling successful in its attempt. You are thrown off balance for a moment, but let out a small chuckle and keep walking.

Thats what happened to me last night, minus the amusement and humor.

A full out anxiety attack is like being mauled by a tiger while chained to a wall. You can see it coming. but you can't do anything about it. Such it was in this case, except its was confusingly small and out of place. It had all the hallmarks of an anxiety attack (the illogical and uncontrollable tears, misplaced anger, fear, and hatred, plus breathing difficulty) but on a much smaller scale. I was crying, but quietly. Tears were flowing at a moderately heavy rate, but I wasn't sobbing or gasping. They were just there, and when I first noticed them I was confused at their appearance. Then the emotions set in - irrational anger, mostly. I became stuck in horrid memories, sitting in loop of anger produced by memories, then anger as a result from memories. Only, rather than building, it was maintaining at a regular pace. The emotions themselves would change around from shame, fear, hatred, and others (all negative) but all roughly at the same level.

It took me a moment to even realize it was an anxiety attack. It started after laying in bed for a while, trying to fall asleep. Then suddenly I was crying. I woke up Christian briefly to incoherently ramble that I was "feeling out of it" before moving to the livingroom. Now that I had the permission of solitude, I started feeling it more. The weight on my chest, the "locked in my brain" feeling. Still very small and subdued. I could breathe, but it felt like at any minute I would loose my breath. I never did, but that uncertainty was killing me.

I laid down on the floor and stretched out, breathing deep. It was hard to gauge the passage of time, but it wasn't too long before I started feeling better. I sat up and meditated for a time, regulating my breath and trying to focus on positive thoughts instead of hateful ones. That last part was the most difficult, and I beat myself up a little for not having kept a better meditation schedule over the past few months. Still, I came back around and hopped back in bed. It still took me a while to fall asleep, but the event was over.

Definitely a strange one.