March 8, 2016

March 6^{th  2:30am}
As I was drifting off, a thought made me sit up and utter a rather loud ‘what the actual fuck’ to no one.

I fucking forgot to pay rent.

I have lived on my own since I was 15 years old. I’ve avoided paying rent sure, but forgotten?
Not like this. Especially not for 7 days.

The fuck is wrong with me?

My girl is coming over after a week of continued unheeded reminders to get my car on the road. She is now just doing the things I cannot, taking me by the hand and taking me to the Ministry. My adultier adult.

Granted, I took in a foster puppy for 2 weeks so I had an excuse to be on lockdown. But she has been eating on her own for a week now, and putting herself to bed, so that excuse ran thinny a while ago. Plus she left yesterday.

My Sunrise took me out for brunch and belly laughs today. I told her what I had done/not done and she said I got caught in a Leap Day vortex of sorts. I have been known to bend time on occasions, but this isn’t bent, it is broken. I am lost and nothing is linear. Getting warmer.

It’s supposed to get really nice out tomorrow and stay that way. No longer sweater weather.

I was thinking ‘okay, time to catch up with my life. Do one big thing a day. Make lists and adult that shit.’

Laying some groundwork this evening, cleaning, sorting laundry…

Seemingly innocent task, kinda Zen, necessary.

Nope.

Suddenly I am Indiana Jones and dirty clothes turned into an archaeological dig and I unearthed the outfit I wore the last time I was with the Giant.

I crumbled.

Cried so hard I couldn’t breathe.

My kid had to pull me out of a pile of laundry like Short Round on some rescue mission in a collapsed diamond mine cursed by a mummy or some shit.

I remember posting to Facebook “Sub-Zero wins, I am wearing a sweater on date night.”

Glad I did, he chose the coldest night of the year to make me charcoal barbequed steaks.

I asked him to stay with me and he said he would.

He didn’t.

It was the last supper.

---

Why can’t I stop?

I am a crier admittedly.

I am this guy’s wife, with amendments and additions.
If I even think about Schindler’s List and or the Notebook fuckin’ fuggedaboutit, I am done.

Any of my friends? You cry I cry, that is a given, I am an empath.

Certain tones, smells, songs, make me weepy.

But this is soul sobbing. Over a sweater and a boy I knew a month.

I don’t know why this is happening, I know it isn’t normal even for me, the girl who cries, and I don’t know how to stop it. Even I’m getting sick of my own shit.

I made it 3 days.

Lie detector determines that is a lie. I cried at brunch, I was laughing that hard.

Oh ya, being lied to makes this awful bell ring in my ribcage and the reverberation shakes the tears outta me.

I used to cry like that when I knew ex-hubby was lying, but it was different, there was a rage behind it.

When the Poet went dark I fell in a hole. That first night was the worst, Nika held vigil from afar. But that was 2 years in and 2 days out.

Gelfling, I saw a dead doe on the road and just knew we were done. I felt like something got torn away, not a limb or anything more like a tether. 2 days and I wasn’t happy per say but I functioned and moved forward. Even when he came back and reopened the wound, I was fine in a day. Practice.

I thought I lost Drogo, lost a night there. Was fine by morning. And then we talked it out over nachos and chuckled at my silliness.

When Wolfling ghosted I was just like ‘what the fuck’. 2 tears maybe 3.

High School Sweetheart was more of a long coming catharsis. That first night was hard but in an afraid of the unknown kinda way, then I was relieved. 26 years, I was pretty used to him being gone.

Our Sara of Lords said “Tell me why you’re so focused on Giant.”

Deep breath.

I miss his energy.
I feel naked and cold without it. Like I’m lost.
Like something bad is happening all the time.
I feel like what he is doing is wrong/bad for him.
And I miss him constantly.

Leah said “If he was that important he’d be with you.” She has a maddening point that sounds like truth.

I posted the laundry incident to Facebook and one of my other girls said “It sounds like you are in love.” She also has a point that sound like the truth.

Both points are currently pointless.

I am scouring the internet for some magical meme that can make this stop.
So far, this…

Music is having an adverse effect.

I’ve been paying attention to what girl is next on stage so I can leave before a song knocks me on my ass and back into the changeroom, my mascara costs about 60 bucks a tube. I cannot keep doing this.

Sara is helping…
“I’m wondering if it’s his, only his energy you miss. Or the combination of that list you just made.  My friend Monika the writer just wrote about the void.  And you said the word.  I’m sending it to you. Not saying you don’t miss him.  But something feels different.  You feel desperate. You don’t do desperate. I worry.”

She sent me this.

Solar Eclipse in Pisces: Goddess Rising – Earth Shifts.

PORTAL that is the word I was looking for, I fell in one and I have no idea when I am.

The blessed double eclipses are coming and the space between is sublime, blissful, magic.

I showed up early.

Sara says

“…you lost an unknown. I know it’s far more complicated. I know your heart is hurting.
He is with her. Release. Fill the Void. We even do best in Chaos. And then Create.”

The first eclipse on a new moon falls on Yugadi, New Year. Kali. Time to destroy and start anew. Ohm Nayam Shivaya.

Bud White: The Night Owl made you. You sure you want to tear all this down?
Ed Exley: With a wrecking ball, want to help me swing it?
(L.A. Confidential)

There is another side to this wormhole/portal/vortex and I will see you there.

My magic came back so hard and fast I am reeling from it.
Punch drunk, trying to sort through it and stay upright.

I am putting my babbling incoherency to paper to see if it makes sense.

Maybe my Omega can figure this out. Matthew?

I feel like I’m getting handed puzzle pieces. I don’t have the box so I am not sure what the big picture is. Half the pieces are upside down. A few of them are already nestled together, I have a few corners and edges and I am slowly piecing this together.

I am having trouble switching tenses. Is, was, will be all getting tangled in time somehow.

The heart has reasons which reason knows nothing of. Blaise Pascal

There is no logic in this place. Sad Cat Diary

I never stop questioning why.

Not the poor, poor pitiful cajoling of ‘why me’ punctuated with pouty face. That is as pointless and redundant as the word redundant sound, so very.

I never asked god ‘why me’ when the good stuff was happening… Studio 60

I just smile. Sometimes with a Cheshire cat grin that is my most grateful, mystic, playful face.
Sometimes wistfully with teary eyes and an ‘oh well, what next then’ and I wait for divine intervention.

Oh look, here it is.

My karma seems to be instant.

I’m writing this in bed, in the green binder. Pulled some seemingly blank pages, I swear they were empty. Then they weren’t.

Two things

1. Tabula Rasa, the director’s cut.

List of days I can begin again.

And this…

She still cares for you. After I am gone I hope you find your way back to each other. True Blood

Fuck.

2. The owls are not what they seem. Twin Peaks

That’s all, just those words on the top of a page

“Then there was the owl. I was driving home the day before fetching him from the airport and I had the weirdest thought, I have a thousand million thoughts a day, some louder than others. It’s easy to lose them in the crowd. Except when, right at that very moment this really loud thought comes roaring over all the others, an owl flies into your car window. The thought was this “you are going to tell him you love him and then you are going to have to kick him out of your house, it is the only way this will work.” Two days later, that exact thing happened, exactly the way I had watched it happen in my head.”

The owl happened on March 15^th 2015. Window was open, I was smoking, halfway down my sideroad almost home. Singing Mumford and Sons at the top of my lungs

Hold me fast ‘Cause I’m a hopeless wanderer And hold me fast, Hold me faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack

I have seen 3 owls in this life. This one didn’t fly into my car exactly, he flew parallel to the window, wings outstretched the tip of one just inches from my face. I stopped the car. I had to. He swooped low over the hood, then up and landed on a telephone pole. I just sat there staring at him trying to process everything. He was staring back. When I finally got composed I eased the car forward and the owl took flight again and led me home.

Nothing goes away until it teaches us what we need to know.

That very same owl came back and told me “If you have to choose between me and her. Pick her.”

I have been “her” both ways.

This road goes two ways. (How FrankenKyle says I love you. AHS)

There is more.

Rob Brezsny strikes again.

The last time he interfered a penguin threw up.

Penguins nurture their offspring by chewing food—mixing it up with all God’s enzymes—and then vomiting it into the mouths of the penguin babies. Perhaps you weren’t the butt of a cosmic joke or some Linda Blair-esque bad review, but in fact the recipient of a very precious gift of love. Who knows?

I spilled my guts and heart out on the internet, left my feelings out for him and the world to see. But he wasn’t looking.

It took me a month and that owl for me to say it to his face. It was already too late.
He said it back, right before he moved away.
Spoke to him the other day. Still love the fucker, he is a good man and an amazing friend. I asked him if I had remedied the situation with the ‘others’ and he hadn’t had to move if he would have given me a second chance, he said he believed he would. That is enough.

Today I got this

Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage. Courage is the most desperate, admirable, and noble kind of love. Delmore Schwartz

This is feeling like some serious déjà vu.

Pieces of the Hulk and pictures of Jesus.

Y’all remember Jesus right?

Once he thought he wanted her. But he kept coming back to me.
I hadn’t shaken my narcissistic inner toddler that would constantly rant ‘mine’. So I ended up the mistress. Took what I could get, which was him, more often than I should have had him considering he belonged to someone else. He came back to me 3 years later and reminded me I had said I was going to show up at his wedding in a red dress and object. He looked for me that day, and for quite some time after.

I write to leave pieces of me everywhere, like cake crumbs on the forest floor, so I can both find myself and be found.

I’m currently lost.

12/3/42 and black 19. I don’t understand, numbers vex me. Someone explain?

The other thing I found in the binder full of magicks?

“When single shines the triple sun, what was sundered and undone shall be whole, the two made one.” Dark Crystal.

There is an eclipse coming, on a new moon.

Open your eyes and look at me.
Heaven.

Another day the walls between the worlds are thinny, another wishing day.
And I have a date with 88?
Huh? That doesn’t seem right.

Stop just in time.

You heard my voice
I came out of the woods by choice
Shelter also gave their shade
But in the dark I have no name
So leave that click in my head
And I will remember the words that you said
Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart
But I was sure we could see a new start.

Tabula rasa

I’m realizing I left myself clues too. The puzzle? I have seen this before.

This is what love looks like.