skyeanide

my body is telling me that i've run myself on fumes and now i have no choice but to pull over and wave my roadside assistance flag.

oh the horror of having to ask for help.
i've never been good at it.

i have always been good at loving people.
especially people who aren't used to love.
it's sort of a blessing and a shame. not a curse, mind you. but a shame.

im scared of things in a new way. i know being scared is pointless.
it won't help me any. it will only keep me from accomplishing things.
so i'm letting it go. but in the moment, its very real and dry like my throat.
i need my voice back. im drinking a lot of tea. eating soup. watching movies.

waiting.

its hard to call for assistance when there isn't a number listed.

i just hope the universe works like instant messenger.

i need a little being taken care of.
or maybe i need a little more learning how to take care of myself.

eighter way. fuck.

i feel blown away

i feel like i have lost my ground. my nest, my feeling of security.

i am working and striving to weave it back together before may. come june, if i am not grounded and secure...i will blow away for real. this is dire.

i am good at making memorials. i can be better at making my home a museum and not a diorama.

i, i, i. UGH. sometimes i feel self-absorbed when i look at my writing.

i miss grace and tyler. i think i miss 2007 but i know i could not be that me again.

the world is so little. so is my neighborhood. better get things in shape for when he shows up unexpectedly.

we couldn't be more desperate, sometimes...

-skye

p.s i need groceries in a BIG way.

i got a fever, and the only thing thats gonna break it is some making out.

the world needs more making out, anyway! i mean that for just about everyone.
except the people who NEVER QUIT making out.
they can loan some of their make out time to me and i will then disperse it evenly among my lady friends and wish into the wind that there will be some fly ass boos at cruzers with hands that were made for holding ours.

whenever i think of you reading my words, i feel naked.

ashleys hair looked like the tinlady with conditioner in her hair!
i liked it. then she folded her laundry and we listened to yellow submarine.
the sounds of colley ave seem to whir like jet engines.
but they also lull sometimes. when you least expect it.

bluejesus bluecross hospital.
lets go to the lovesick ward and see if there are any adequate nurses.

i think we're drifting. i feel it. like tides that shift according to the waning and waxing of the moon.
we are ladies of the earth, and thereby ladies of the luna. and thereby, this process is a natural one.

change is changing me.

thank you for being here.

things are just fine.
my room is undergoing serious renovation.
done by nine tonight.

i will offer this up to the wind
and whatever shape it comes back in, so be it.
i'm sorry for being so open ended
but i dont know how this novella ends
and thereby, i will not steer it

i don't wanna beg,
no i dont wanna beg
i'm not that way

i dreamed the world was ending and the way i was told i could tell, was the fact that the stars were disappearing one by one. a very slow and subtle change but this wise one told me that only we could stop the stars from disappearing, and bring the old ones back.

what a scaryish but also auspicious dream to have to start my day with.

"if i can't keep it, at least let me call it by name

that was called falling,

this is called pain."

forgiveness is so fine.

today i did something ive been wanting to do for a while now.
laundry. and napping without much sleep
i'm ready to meditate again.
tomorrow is my last day at organic food depot.
after this, and still, my soul wanders toward departure.
still forming new bonds and connections each day
i would not be me if i did not

i'm trying to forgive myself
for all this stagnance
in physical exercise, in chores to be done,
in laziness overall. tied up around my ankles and my wrists
like your kisses.
but not as kind as they were.
more like, as deceptive as their familiarity

i'm trying to think of you a little less
so as not to keep myself aware of my longing
for the nearness of your shoulder
or the tangle of your beard

i'm trying not to feel like crying
but more like dancing with my lady friends
and making crafts to usher in the springtime
since snowfall hasn't really fallen yet.

thank you, all, for being so kind.
it makes the colder pieces a little easier.

body:

still glowing from the luminescence of your smile
i write on to say that it is good i am away from you
for it is allowing me to deal with things like an adult does
and how much sweeter is the day that i delight in your presence again
now that i have spent these long nights sometimes sad without you
and each pedal away from me is really another foot closer to returning
for this world is round
and so is my heart
for things do not whither away in corners
love that starts continues cycling
around around around
like your wheels on gravel
and my stomach when i receive your words

i am sure you will be well
for, i would have it no other way.

yours in a eight thousand rainbows and twelve hundred perfect sunsets
with dried apricot tears and swiss chard laughter,
myself

listening to yourself on an interview is a crazy humbling experience. for me anyway. i will sit and count how many times i say "um" or "uh". i shouldn't really, but i do it all the same. SHRUG.

my good friend michael booth is in town this week and i am thrilled to delight in his presence. one big reason that i like him being around is that we always laugh together. yes, a lot. so if you're alarmed by any heaving guffaws pouring from that slinkster green volvo humming softly down the road, don't worry yo pretty lil heads, its just michael cracking me up again!

the world is shrinking i think, sometimes. everything here is so connected. i am connected to the puke i cleaned up last night at cruzer's (not mine) because the other lady helping in the puke scandal (not puking) and i are now getting to be good friends. maybe even BECAUSE of the puke we dealt with. this is fantastic. puke. bringing people together.

it's time to get lunch.

i still miss him often, but i feel like this about it:

"it is not that i wait for you, it is that my arms are doors that i cannot close"

-skye

do you know where your keys are?
do you know who your friends are?
am i working towards the right pursuit of the appropriate goal?

the world is quivering but not in a bad way. more like in a splendid and tremendously expandable way.

or maybe that's what i'm telling myself for the sake of feeling stable.

could it be?

i'm being ambiguous.

yeah. deal.

updates on my life.

i am, right at this moment, drinking new leaf organically sweetened tangerine white tea. its quite good.

today i went to xmas brunch with my family at pat robertson's little hoity-toity joint "swan terrace" @ the founders inn. my grandmother likes to take us all to eat there at the holidaze. slightly unfortunate though, considering the pillars on which this establishment was built. xtreme right wing god lovin' white boys who probably don't care too much for equal rights or interconnectedness. or vegetarianism. or a woman's right to choose. i love my nan dearly, and i am grateful for her warmth in buying us all a nice brunch somewhere sorta fancy. but its not the sentiment i have trouble with. it's the whole vote with your dollar thing. im sure the food is all prepared by people who are great at what they do, maybe they even all enjoy doing it...maybe not. but the point is, on some level, however slight, money is going from my grandmother on up to pat himself and all his pals at the 700 club. i guess next year it won't really matter considering i may or may not be IN virginia for the holidays...but i think i need to talk to nan about my feelings on the matter. i feel like a hypocrite each time i go there. i can't do it another year.

additionally, i am dealing with the grieving process after losing a friend in richmond suddenly. come to think of it, death probably knocks in that fashion more often than warning you of its impending thievery. i really felt robbed for the first day or so. then, i realized that i should try to look at this experience more as a gift, in that i got to spend time with such a beautiful person again and again, and that in itself was lucky. i've learned though, grief comes in a different way each time it enters your life. so you can't calculate how it will feel, how long it will stick around, or the way it will affect your life. so i am just trying to deal with it the way i deal with most stuff these days. one moment at a time. im not denying myself any emotional waves. i think they are all natural after something so sudden as this. therefore, i think i am maintaining a stable mental state and allowing to be healed within the process.

i set up a layer of blankets in the center of the living room floor the other night for reiki. gave my friend a close to full treatment which i honestly hadn't done since early 2006. almost 2 years ago. it felt good. also, it felt like it would be better if i had a table, made my back hurt pretty bad trying to maintain good posture and not slouch but still be flexible. i need a massage. and how.

i've been playing banjo every day since daniel passed away. allowing it to somehow channel my sadness into something creative and mind expanding. i'm going to keep it up. i think he would want that.

saw two great bands at the boot last night. planned on attending the after party and got too tired. damn, old maid time is setting in early. we had a great crew of people. it was fun and inclusive of dancing.

life is good right now. a little confusing, even sometimes a bit exhausting. but overall, i really can't complain. thinking about vermont a lot and feeling a little early anxiety that i am welcoming as a natural thing and allowing to flow thru and then out. nothing too scary, but nothing im inviting to stick around either.

i'm going to take a nap.

(xmas party for work on wednesday. i'm bringing my banjo and playing country xmas frontporch jams.)