every. single. day

Been pulling down old collages off the walls. It's depressing how creatively prolific I was when I was younger. Looking at the nasty walls underneath. Different shades and sheens of white paint slapped on haphazardly by semi-drunken semi-homeless retards. This house has been abused too long. My house.

This year I am going to start painting the walls of my house. Colors. Chocolate brown bedroom. Orange art studio. Pink kitchen. Green alcove. Blue bathroom. Silver living room. Yellow entryway. Turquoise doors.

Been missing all the words I wrote into the void under all the different guises. The "me" years spent floating around in cyber space re-inventing myself every few months. Trying people on. Seeing who fit. Obviously, no one did. Deleted them all. All ten years of words, pretty and otherwise, just non-existent. Trying to form that bond to non-attachment by forcing it upon myself right where it's needed most. Right where it hurts to the bone.

I used to say I wanted to die with a negative amount of things. Really, I just wanted to die.

I was spilling my guts and tweaking my voice. Cutting my hair. Shaving my head. OCDing about stupid people with lots of integrity but absolutely no soul. He of the really great hair.

And I was ignoring my reality because it sucked. Or it sucked because I ignored it. And it all got out of hand. Really fast. Really simply fast. All those words from all those versions of myself were not the only casualties of the last decade.

But through it all I was making or working on something every. Single. Day.

Fighting several wars on several different front simultaneously, but I still had time to sit down or get up, stand up to be creative.

But now.


It hurts just to be. Let alone to pretend to be somebody.

Trying to reformulate the past into some play-dough sculpture of the future. Trying to re-collect old acquaintances like picking up windfall sticks. Searching for specific stick people in a charred forest of forgotten selves. Hoping to start some sort of fire in my own soul, using others' affirmations and connections as fuel.

I want the fire in my soul back. I want it back and I want to be able to control it this time so I don't burn myself out again.

Trying to form or freeform or reform friendships when you are living behind the greatest great wall is almost impossible. I don't think I can tear it all down. I think I just need to build some sort of gate. Post a guard. Stamp hands.

Guess yesterday was what some people call the day of Epiphany.

Great day to have an idea.

9:07 AM - Monday, Jan. 07, 2013


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