i don't want to go to sleep. 

Possums Popcorn - Stan Forbee

 

If you want your relationship with someone to deepen,

 

 write them letters.

 

 even if you see them everyday. 

 

 phone calls can seem like enough, 

 

but letters do something different - 

 

they allow you time to think,

them time to digest,

and you have a record that is that little bit less subject to the filter of your diaphanous memory.

 

(because memories are like trying to watch what happened through very thin cloth...that bunches when the wind blows) 

 

 

write letters. for them and you.

 

 consider keeping a copy for yourself

 

or, 

you can choose,

 

to 

entrust them

with 

 

your memory. 

the end

{this was originally written 4 days ago (monday?), but I never sent it. I am sending it now in anticipation of saying a thing to a person..maybe. I will likely edit/proof this later.} 

I don't usually put things this personal here. Not anymore.

I may move it later.

February of 2001 was the last time i was truly happy and had hope. And saw a future.

There was someone i loved and didn't, apparently tell them...

(this feels like too much to say again)

Almost a month ago, i looked at some pictures, and it floored me...'feeling of overwhelming loss'. 

'flood of emotion'

And i wanted desperately to cry. a flood of tears. But only moisture came out. 

And it opened up connection to emotions that i cut/have been cut off from for a while,

But i didn't understand what i was feeling, if it was real

'

And i went searching for answers in old mesaages and letters. For weeks. I found something last week i wrote to myself. 

Last Friday... (Thursday night) i went looking somewhere i had already. I found a letter in an email. It was the thing for which i'd written to myself. It was a letter to someone who...

who i wanted to marry. and lost..

starting from (friday?) I'd been trying to read it. I spent a couple days (ithink) on the first page. That page was an explanation/a content warning. 

I don't know if i ever sent it. 

Today is Monday. It is morning. I finally finished it.

Maybe not quite as intense - but again...

I am so sorrowful for that person who missed what was already a second chance because he wasn't sure or ready and was distracted or scared and didnt seek help and didnt ask what he should do.

I thought abt a friend and his partner, and how much he loves her.

I thought about what it would be like to read him this letter and then ask him to tell his partner he loves her.

Because that is the closest i could come. And sorrow was there, and some water came..

This is full of holes. This process was supposed to be about filling them. 

I havr been trying to figure out what it is i need to say; what it is I want to know.

I want to know when was the moment I lost... that chance

for the last time. 

I waa going to offer this person those pictures. They are of them. I dont know if i should...if can keep them. I'm trying to figure out if it is just a ploy to see if that person...if they mean anything to them.

If they don't care, it's easier to say goodbye, maybe. 

Peace:
cW

jumper.

I just arrived at a health clinic for a dental checkup and this is one of those clinics that accepts federal funds.

(i.e.: public assistance)

As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a sheriff's vehicle, which I found odd. It had occurred to me that I had never seen a law enforcement officer at any kind at one of these facilities. 

I wondered if there's a possibility that they were here on the lookout for or trying to apprehend a person for the sake of ICE.

As I continued into the parking lot, I looked over and noticed that an officer had come out to the vehicle but not the driver's side. Then I saw why he was here. He helped a tall, slender, young male out wearing a red jumpsuit, shackled and chained.

It seems a shame that they couldn't at least offer him the dignity of not injuring through the front door.

..... 

It's may 18, 2026 2:32pm.

I just told myself "I'm sorry," for the first time. 

There is a full-on, recorded-music-backed busker in the WM parking lot in this southern, semi-rural (surrounded by rural) town.

That concept fascinates me. 

Semirandom

I'm not ok.

This is not new. I haven't said it here. I realized i wasn't ok om sept of 23.

I have recently begun a process of,  what I guess, is me trying yo be ok.

This involved me telling the truth and inviting certain ppl to inquire about truths they have wanted from me. 

Seemed like a good ideaNow not so much.

Or msybe hsrd work is hard work.

I told these things to someone last night.

I woke up an hour-ish ago not feeling great...sore/crampy in some places...not of a renewed spirit. 

I think I may saying some big goodbyes.

This includes The One that I never have...or maybe felt I hot the opportunity to.

To say goodbye with/from the heart...

To spend weeks trying to decide/figure what to say...

(it probably isn't helpful to start thinking of MJ's "___'s Out of My Life" here) 

{Or maybe it is perfect..}

or maybe i just need to get up and take a shower. 

Buggin' Out

 it took about 35 years of listening for me to notice that Phife, on each verse, is alternating between two definitions of "bugging out",

 

 and that his second verse (#3 of the song) is rumination on mental health.

 

 i miss Phife. i miss Dave. i miss my cousins.

 

 happy Mental Health Awareness Month.

 

 

 

I miss taking the ferry,

including the various ways one can take a ferry.

when I lived in That Place, 

people used to offer 

"having to take a boat"

as a disadvantage.

There were times when I would 

have 

liked

to live closer to those I typically communed with,

but the ferry was its own kind of communality.

(I wonder why they never thought to put a grocery store in the terminal...)

Ferry is truth.

{just get there early enough to avoid the drunk boat}

mousse

I have been thinking about mice getting into the house.

So, yesterday, i dreamed a dream about mice getting into the house 

the end. 

" I guess I feel anxious in the sense that I don’t have too much going for me anymore.

I used to be kind of cute. In fact, I was pretty for a little too long, you know? It was a curse because it meant that I hadn’t developed as fully as I should have. My best friend from college was in the same position and we helped each other become serious. "

 

- "Both Sides Now: In Conversation With Lorraine O’Grady" , NY Times

 

note to self from the past:

 party shots indoors low ceiling: 500 IS0, on camera flash with a diffuser attached seems to work well for working hand-held.

 

  

(sigh)

Please.

Come get your cats.

brittle

I am constantly getting scrapes on my shins now. I have no idea when they happen. I'm starting to think the skin is so dry/stiff there now that they just randomly open up if I move too much. 

I drink water, fair amount of green tea.

(shrug)

(for the previous)

....or maybe it's just Spring. 

elevation

I'm unsure why, but I feel slightly high/giddy (?) today.

Some sensation or...palpable metaphorical (warmth?) from under my sternum...

I don't know why. 

Lastnight spoke to Brother-in-arts...he seemed to approve part of my decision to (try to) reach out to elders I haven't seen in

decades...despite having been back close to them for decades. 

maybe part of a broader relaxation.  /decision

I think I also felt this somethingish yesterday after some exercise.. in the sun.....

some feeling of doing the right thing/making the right choice

after dwelling on the personal determination that so many 

(all?)

have been bad since - 

<hm.>

since I've been allowed to make decisions ? 

 

decades are a blink.  i think i feel like we should get more time. ___

[in

..

aooooouuuuuuuuuuut....] 

cost

i feel like i have spent a lot of emotional energy over the past week.

i fell off my motorcycle

well, down

with it.

(tweaked knee, had knee checked. knee is ok)

bikeknee is part of it, but not it.

looking at old things...helpful in some ways....

had an     affect.    affects.         

some feels.   much feels     big

some perspective         sseemed like some forgiveness        sometimes

but    maybe read too much

too long       too late

too late

tired

tired

(tried?)

poor little heart scattered in too many places

*too obtuse to get old references

and i wish google ai would stop trying to fix this.

I just got a scam email written as a PSA about scam emails.

(sigh)

Earth needs an enema. 

i shouldn't have looked those pictures

Writhing 

Shuddering

wishing i cld crawl out of my own skin

missing

not recognizing 

wishing you wld call

        or you

or you

            or you

or y

Rebbie

It is at this point in history that I have listened to Rebbie Jackson's album Centipede for the first time.

And it is also the first time that I understand for what "centipede" is a maetaphor in the song "Centipede".

Amazingly, almost the whole album is like that.