Quiet

My nemesis, Quiet. Odd, that when you are depressed that every song somehow mocks you. So, no music. Television and film have an uncanny way of reminding one of what they are no longer sharing with someone, so no t.v. Unfortunately, no one to really hang out with or talk to because suddenly everyone is gone, busy, or buried. So it's just quiet. Tried retail therapy today and what did I buy?! A cd for H, and the new DCD which reminds me of H. Awesome, gold medal in torturing myself. My diet of the past 3 days has consisted of watermelon jolly ranchers, a bagel and pepsi. My new doctor will certainly share his appreciation. I can't eat when I'm upset, and I am still upset. Not angry anymore, but not ready to color chalk rainbows on a sidewalk either.

So, my goals. Once the pain of this subsides, are to figure out what is normal and what is healthy for me. Need to find happiness without necessarily finding romance. Need to get back on top of my health problems and need to get a hold on my 'heart' problems. Need to figure out how to be my own best company, because pacifying loneliness with others means at some point you will be lonely again.

My vacation is over. Second one this year and both have been... I don't really know what word I would put at the end of that sentence. I guess in hindsight, those days off gave me time to cope and go back to work and focus. I suppose that's exactly what I need to do. Work, oddly enough is the only consistent and stable thing in my life for the past 11 years, as pathetic as that sounds. Maybe it's time to embrace a challenge and apply for the next supervisor position, wherever that may take me. I like it here in Orlando, but I am slowly constructing a graveyard of memories around me. No one is putting their life on hold for me, why should I be an exception?

Not Always What You Expect

If this weekend would have been themed, it's exactly that. I made the mistake of assuming things, something I rarely am ever spot-on about, and I should just stop the practice. When it comes to people, to events, to things around me, I rarely ever make assumptions, but when it comes to my personal life I am guilty of making far too many.

I am a little embarrassed to admit that I wanted to offer H a weekend, her last free one before school started, whatever enjoyment and indulgence she saw fit to squeeze into her already narrow schedule and yet somehow balance that with private and intimate quiet solitude at home enjoying movies, music, etc. Again, a little absurd to think somehow both would happen. Don't get me wrong, it was still an exciting weekend and I met new people and made new connections with people in the art community.

I don't much want to go into detail about what we did, suffice to say, it was unique. On some level I feel I wasn't uninhibited enough, and maybe was a source of some dour on what should have been fun. Admittedly, I made some bad choices in mixing liquor, red wine, and beer in a hodge podge fashion on top of being sick, and medicated. Stupid, actually. Maybe H could have enjoyed herself more if I had stayed home? Not sure... but I feel like something is lingering from Saturday night. Don't ask me to define or explain it... it's a feeling. A questioning or doubt possibly. I am dwelling on it inexcusably and it's causing me anxiety, but I need to busy myself with things I should be doing for myself right now.

I have been utterly lethargic since Saturday night. I did next to nothing Sunday and today, my body simply isn't having any of it. Managed to see Tonya's amazing collection of art at Pom Poms, I am completely mesmerized by boxed art, and she hits all the right melancholy, Victorian corners of my heart. Very impressive. There is so much incredible talent in this town, I wonder if it's true for every city across this country, and I wonder if those cities are blessed to have such a wealth of venues like Orlando has to embrace and support local art? Beneath the Disney, the sports, the theme parks, there is an amazing undercurrent of artistry in all mediums... I feel blessed to be here and to be involved in that scene. Even more blessed when I think of the people that are in my life because of it... namely this wonderful person I find myself in love with. Where would I be without my love for art?

Cyclical

So much happened, so much changed... today - it's almost as if nothing happened. No resolutions were made; no expectations set; no real understanding established on how to resolve; but somehow, inexplicably - things are okay? Not really buying into that, I am too much a realist to expect nothing will produce abundance. Again, I can assume, but the last two times I was foolish enough to gamble with that flimsy hand - my bluff was called. Rebuild a little until an all-in ante comes up... I don't know if I can do that again. I am already operating off of the most fragile of framework; a skeletal collection of frayed nerves from which is tethered cast iron emotions. I've had the luxury of being in charge this week, so my focus is definitely grounded in the mundane and tedious, where the relationships are chaotic and much like a children being left at home on their own for the first time. You may come home to ping pong balls evaporated on the stove burners, or you may come home and worry that everything seems eerily in place. Point is, it's essentially taken my mind out of this insipid battle of wills and emotional manipulation and simply reply with frustration at the entire debacle. I know in the pit of my stomach however that not a damn thing is fixed and everything is still quite broken. It's a framed family portrait with shattered glass where all of the pieces, though still broken, have been put in place to give the facade of normalcy. Do I wait until the pieces fall out, or do I re-frame it? I don't have the energy to do this anymore. Dead Can Dance has been fucked; I've been fucked; and I just kind of want to be selfish now. I must be entitled to a turn at this game, right? Haven't been selfish in a long, long time... unless you consider how I covet and carve the pale fabric of my skin. I really feel like I am fading; disappearing; an almost non-sentient caricature of other people's place for me in their lives.