outofsynch | Entries tagged with writings

i exist in the world.
out of sync with the rhythm and flow of the people
i exist in the world
adrift from the seamless procession of faces and voices
marching to a rhythm that moves and dances
the uniform motion of life
i exist.
my drum counter-tempo to yours
i move, and march and dance to the rhythm that
stops
and pauses the flow of your time and movements;
stops
your sync to the rhythm of life that you hear and feel
and flow with.
such is the surety and comfort of that rhythm surrounding you
that no one can not hear the music and move to it in celebration
of existence.
still
i exist in the world
out of sync with the rhythm and flow of the people
that make these endless streams of faces and voices,
i step out into the flow
as you stop, adrift from the rhythm of the music of life around you
and I smile
because i exist in the world
and now you know it too.

i turned off my tv two years ago and haven't looked back.
I turned off the radio and closed all the newspapers too.
the noise they emit only hurts me
and i don't want to tolerate it.

in truth, they themselves broadcast pain.
the pain of the world.
and as humans, we respond to pain with anger.
and in our anger we look for someone to blame.

the anger in the world hurts me
because the blame in the world is undeserved
because the blame propagates the pain.

i cannot find a band-aid big enough to kiss the world's hurts.
so I turned off the news and all its sources
to protect myself from the pain of the world -
from the sounds of the world crying
from the screams of people who don't know a healthier way to respond
from the countless blames and pointing fingers at "someone else"
so we can direct our anger.
even though it doesn't address our pain
or help us heal.

i had a dream about you today.
you said I was still in love with you
and then asked me if that felt true.
and I said, "yeah, it probably is true."

and in my dream i could still remember the shape of your body
the touch of your skin
the feel of your hair in my hands

and i remembered it all in my dream
as I listened to you talk on the phone about mundane things
and then I gave you a supportive hug
and said I thought you were a good mother.
-------------------
I guess you never really get over your firsts.

i've been writing again.

let me know how this reads as a spoken word. I've got Ani in my head with her rhythms and intonations as it moves.
==============

i pushed myself so hard to bend i put myself into an emotional coma.
the effort of pushing this mountain of my mind that just won't bend was too much in the end
and i have fallen into the blissful numbness of emotional outer space.

i feel like i've let you down somehow
like i should be able to bend and not break
like i should be able to give this to you when there seems to be so much at stake.

but i couldn't,
and i can't
and the question becomes what do we do now?

the end just becomes the next step to move forward on,
and things that i needed in the beginning don't seem so sound now.
but what i need, and what you need,
seem to be on different plains
and given what has changed,
or not changed,
the vaccum of our future hangs

and
how we will fill it.

my heart is heavy and my pockets light
i sit in a world that is waiting for me and do not reach out.
instead i lay in my mind and breathe;
allowing the emotions to engulf me, surround me.
i revisit old conversations.
i live in the memories of my past life
while my body goes through the motions of the world;
keeping up the pretenses of an occupied vessel.
it's cheaper this way
the decrepitude of my finances is not deepened by my dreams and so i keep dreaming.

the world is waiting for me to return
but the ominous weight of time belays my coming.
i would rather sit with the lonely memories
the sadness of what i have lost
reliving what i wanted to have and denying what i have lost
than face the truth, than face the loss i have suffered.

the lie comforts for my heart
until something in the fantasy threatens to reveal the truth,
threatens to thrust me back into life.
and i struggle to stay in my dreams
while truth threatens to break through to my consciousness and ravage my tired soul with reality;
threatens to wake the dreamer.

i struggle now.
the tempest is knocking at my door and it makes my heart heavy.
there is no escape if i should awaken
and i fear the repercussions of reality for not attending to it sooner.
i fear i will not survive them.

no more, Love.
I am through with you.
you have battered my vessel and ripped her sails.
you have tossed her on the rocky shores.
i have too weak a heart to brave your fury again.
let it not be said that I did not find Love
but I shall tell all who seek you that you are no friend to man.

Seek not Love. Love is vicious. Love is cruel.
Love cares not for the heart of man.
Stay safe in the harbors of infatuation.
I tell you seek that which can be held and is tame, for the comfort of familiarity is a safer life.
Love will surely tear your heart out and notch her mantle one more time with its blood.

no longer will i look for love
i'm looking for infatuation.
its safe harbors with its gentle rise and fall
are much preferred to the violent changes of Love's ocean.

i heard your happy now
got something you need
got something you want
got something you're enjoying

can we please start over
can we work it out
can we find a way to be together
and last forever
just give it one more try

i don't want to live without you
i don't want to breathe without you
there by my side

i just want to hold your hand
and take a stand
and be proud of who i am
and be with you

i heard you found someone to hold you
someone to support you
someone who can understand you
won't repremand you
and gives you what you need

can't we please start over
can we work it out
can we find a way to be together
and last forever
and give it one more try

can we please

the phone is ringing and i hear your voice on the other line
the rich, expressive tones of your hello
wake-up! wake-up! it's all a dream anyhow.
no reason to dream of you tonight.
no reason to whisper into the night.

what would i say if i could call you up right now?
what words come after goodbye?

pain chokes me
and stops the breath in my lungs
so i take a pill
to keep the sadness at bay.

i walk again down empty halls
the memory just out of reach
the emptiness fills me
and i turn away
so the sadness will not find me.

I am opening the wound again,
cutting into the scab
to feel those feelings again.
the blood churns and rolls inside.

I've almost forgotten what it feels like to love for you.
the gap, the gash, gapes and blood pours out.

i bleed again for you.

i feel it roll down my chest as I sit up.
I feel it push from my body with the beating of my heart.

I bleed again for you
and this time only feel sadness.

this time, maybe this time, i'll heal in a good way.
take out the poisons as my blood flows
take the longer road to recovery and become a better person from the journey.

i've lived many lables
and learned many things
i've seen the workings of the world
in little boxes, and compact words
and i've learned to leave them behind.
i've walked in many shoes
and i've seen many things
and the labels never fit
and the boxes were too square
my oblong, polygonal design
never made it in completely
and i was cut to pieces to fit compactly.

and now i am a southern belle
who curses like a sailor
and believes there is one god
among all the others who rule
i am a conservative hippy
who believes in free love
and free will
and abstinence before marriage.
i am an ex-grungy goth
who always preferred life sober
and can tell tales of wild trips
without ever traveling them myself

i am a woman who wants a family
and a house, and a supportive spouse -
someone who can help pay the bills,
and doesn't want kids,
and is an independent woman in her own right.
i am a leather domme,
who is probably a switch,
who is afraid to give
the same trust i am given.
i am a gay, dyke, lesbian, faggot
who swings between high posh fashion
and country, flannel with an undershirt

and though my life still has many turns
and many lables yet to live
i've yet to find a single label
that fits the way you think it should.
i've learned many things;
i've been called many names,
and i've been treated many ways
all by the label you decide to use that day
but at the end, for myself,
the only thing i can say
is that my label often says
"wash with like colors,
tumble dry low"
with the occasional "dry clean only"
to keep me on my toes.

=======================
i can put on a face,
put on a name
go to a place
and play a good game

and at the end of the day
when i've teased you to your rope
i'll turn around
and walk away
because the tease is what i was in for.

i held your hand through your troubled walks i guided you, encouraged you, supported you to become who you are i wanted you to be who you could be saw the beauty locked inside your fear wished for the woman i hoped to love to be strong enough to overcome but now the bridge is burned you stand on the other side with our history to guide you for someone else to love the woman you can become i held your hand through troubled waters i walked with you to your identity and showed you who to talk to and how to meet your needs and when you got strong enough to seek on your own you left me new friends, new circles, new adventures awaited and supported you to be on your own helped you believe you were better without me helped you believe you could do it without me and few but i know how far you've come the distance you've traveled the name you were called or the struggle it took for you to be who you are and few but i know what it took to watch you to push you to support you to encourage you and none but i know the failures the frustrations the depression of having to do so much so that you could be who you are so that you could seek on your own and continue without me

halfheartedly,
in vein
i write.

i miss you
and it slows my tongue;
dulls my wit.

i want to seem strong
resolute
determined
but my station is eroding
below, the waves of longing lap
eat away at the rocks
eat away at my foundation.

the tears of my heart
seep
feed the waves
feed the waters

and forgiveness weakens me
and compassion undermines me
and understanding shakes me
and inside i shiver

the comfort from my walls cracks
and i fear the onslaught once they fall.

nothing has changed.
time has not yet worked her magic on us.
the "i" and "you" is too new
from the "us" we once were
to be different.
we have not evolved enough to come full circle back to "us".

on both our parts, i think,
the new needs time to settle
to become comfortable
to become old
we need time to look at the "you" and the "i"
to see what changes are valuable
to see what of our needs the other must meet

we must be critical of this pull back to "us"
we must be wary of it,
disect it,
evaluate it.
we should not rush
headlong back into a joining.
fear or repeating our prior mistakes
should keep us at bay.
if the "you" or "i" does not meet muster,
we must resist,
we must be strong,
we must withstand the lust.

if either of us does not wholey fulfill
the other's needs,
we will suffer and regret the joining
and we will surely loose
the "you" and "i" that each of us is creating
from the ashes of the "us" we once were.

i had a visit from my past last week and realized why i left it there.
the shell of a human i once was filled out and needs more from my relationships than before.
sadly, the relationship had not evolved as i, and left me wanting in several regards.

but i saw a bit of where i began in her. the black and white sexuality categories; the need to be surrounded by people from the same "community" i once felt I was obligated to.
and i am greatful that i have expanded out of that.
that "community" to me consists of humans, and not simply those that classify themselves as "gay".

and i am greatful that my life has expanded beyond the value of who wants to get in my pants and how many women i make out with. i am greatful that my life receives value from my friends, and coffee dates, gazing at the stars under a blanket, and watching silly tv shows with others.
I am greatful that i can laugh and dance, and see myself as a person, as a human, and not as a sexual object. i am greatful that when i need a hug, or a listening ear, there are people i can turn to who will listen and help me grow instead of tuning me out.
i am greatful for the life i have and have been building.
and i am greatful to have this chance to look at myself anew and appreciate the things i've grown into, and the shell that i've left behind.

to the reader who will never bother:
your "southern charm" is abrassive and rude.
people are not obligated to provide you with everything you want, and addressing them as though this were true embarasses me for you, and offends me when you direct it at me.
i find it quaint that you see yourself on a pedistal above me when it comes to this regard and say that i should "let you handle the talking" because I will offend someone with my mannerisms.
if ever i allow you to grace my premises again, try to see me as less of a chaufer to your whims and more as a companion that you want to spend time with and talk to.

and as a note on your observation skills:
the toilet seat goes down when you are finished. i shall assume you didn't hear me when i asked you to put it down in the beginning and defer to the following - if it is down when you go in there, and i make a point of putting it down every time after you leave, kindly take notice and put the effort into the action yourself.

when you see a sapling, a tree in the first of its youth, you see a young thing with promise, and potential, that still must be sheltered and cared for. You see the hope of a strong and established tree in the slinder frame and fragile branches.

it is that hope, and that dream of what the sapling will become that encourages you to care for it, support it, guide it through it's growth. but in truth, no amount of care or guidance can make a sapling grow. that comes from something within the sapling itself, and if that spark isn't there, your care is in vain.

as a sapling matures, you see its branches thicken, its trunk grow longer, and below it' root system mirrors the growth. there is a point where you can no longer care for the sapling and it must grow on it's own. It lays the groundwork to support itself against the elements, and to thrive no matter what the world gives it. Those sappling that fail to develop enough roots, often fall in the wind and rain, or under the snow of winter. It is an understanding of nature that not all sapplings adequately prepare themselves for what lies ahead.

a tree that has survived several years past its youth often stands gaunt. straight, but showing the effects of the world on it. It has grown the way it needed to grow in order to survive on its own, and in its own way is a testament to strength and the resolve of its youth, even as it no longer quite mirrors the straight branches of the sapling it once was. Its trunk may be knotted, and it may have unpredicted bends in its branches - testaments to the obsticles it overcame and accomidated during its accention to the sky.
a testament to the maturity and growth it accomplished on its own, despite the challenges the world and the elements provided.

today i cannot breathe.
but if i could run away, put on someone else's shoes and leave my dirty clothes behind,

i could blend into the crowd and loose my pain as it wandered the streets of time square looking for me, and unable to find me.
i would become another person
and live and laugh and dance
i would be popular
my euphoria would provide an aphrodisiac to the masses who would never get enough of me.
i would slip into this new life
abandoning my cats and my empty apartment to fend for themselves
and maybe i would go back for my cats;
sneak in through the night and snuggle them away while my depression slept. and we would ride trains across the country and see new sights and smell new smells and we would lead new lives
and in the mountains of Colorado, and the rapids of California

I would be able to breathe again.

i feel listless today
i just want to lay down somewhere and not be anyone.
i want to sit on a porch with my lover and watch the wind in the trees.

we belong together
but not as we are right now
change is painful
and growth hurts
and i want to sit down with you and tell stories and make each other laugh and forget about the world for a day.

but not right now.

and right now.

and i wish that we were different people so that we could be together and laugh and be happy without the rest of the world encroaching on our life as it did before
but right now we are the same
and right now we need to change
and change hurts.

hurts like the missing piece of you that is me
hurts like the vague lack of purpose and desire i once had
hurts like the isolation i feel when i look for you and you aren't there
hurts like the giving i can't give because you aren't there to take
hurts like the holidays that i can't spend with you
hurts like the plans i have to re-plan because they once included you.
change hurts.

and growth is painful
and pain is giving and re-newing and maybe, maybe, one day we can change into people who can be together the way that we belong together
and the way that we fall into each other and the comfort of together when ever we are together

it's 2 am and i'm still awake writing
i should be asleep for the day that is dawning
but i just keep hoping, that you'll want to talk to me.

each day i go in and i look out the window
and i see in my mind the place you are working
and i want you to call me, i want to go see you again.

and i breathe. i just breathe.

i stand on the corner sometimes when i'm working
my thoughts racing to windows, my feet stuck to the sidewalk,
wishing the window i stared at would show you to me.

these days go by slowly, and the nights streatch for ever
time keeps on creeping and i just die slowly
it feel like i'm bleeding, and nothing will get me through it.

and i breathe. i just breathe.

it's 2:30 now and the bars will be closing
i wonder who looks for you and where you are going.
i wish that our hearts could be back together again.

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outofsynch

April 2013

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Page Summary

meeting
media
dreaming secrets
vaccuum
(no subject)
a thought experiment
song (it's country in my head)
(no subject)
(no subject)
bleed
labels
the journey to you
(no subject)
because you said you need me
(no subject)
the tree
breathing
(no subject)
writing

The Edges of Normal

coming closer to fine

Entries tagged with writings

meeting

media

dreaming secrets

vaccuum

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a thought experiment

song (it's country in my head)

(no subject)

(no subject)

bleed

labels

the journey to you

(no subject)

because you said you need me

(no subject)

the tree

breathing

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writing

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April 2013

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