There is a very poignant (and my favorite) scene in The Color Purple wherein Sofia starts chuckling in that low, southern belly laugh and Mr. _____’s father says “The dead has arisen”. Right before Sofia launches into the speech trying to save Celie from going to jail. It ends with Sofia saying “I sawed you and I know there is a God.”
I have felt this way.
Having moments where I know there is a God.
But this is about the dead.
It’s always about the dead.
They have arisen.
They won’t stay down. My Monday Night Lights DJ is single now. I hadn’t seen him in a million years, I walked into work for the first time in 6 months just shaking like a leaf and he hugged me hard and long. I felt decidedly put back together. There are a million bad things about that club but the good ones shine bright like diamonds.
Our Dear Robert may yet get his wish, he might see me on stage dancing to “Lover Come Back”. He and the Giant know where I am now.
Who knows what is in store for me. I am not sure if I should be thumbing my nose at the gods just now by playing and moving to such things*. I go elsewhere when I am on stage, I get lost in the music, the rhythm and the words. I am not sure with whom I might be communing.
I keep thinking I have run the full gauntlet, then the one and only Stripper Whisperer calls me late at night with that honey-coated, talented tongue of his.
T’was the night after Lumberjack and I made it official. But in my head and my bed it had been official for a while. Was nice to finally have someone say it back to me. I decided on him, and he decided on me right back.
(I started writing this October 29th Windows is updating and asked me if I wanted to save this document…no windows, not really but…if the weird shoe fits might as well post it)
*Wolfling walked into work last night. I was on stage when I saw him. Luckily I was drunk enough that, in my head at least, I did a pretty good show. I got tipped 10 bucks to, so…survey says, ya. I did alright. He looked good, I will give him that. But damn he acted like an ass. I wasn’t sure if I should talk to him, survey says…nope. But I did.
He was rude-ish and dismissive. Like he never ate my ass like it was a bowl of vanilla ice cream, like we never snuggled and he never told me stories about his childhood. Or asked me over and over again to candy coat his low self-esteem with niceties. Every fuck session began and ended with a ‘fishing for compliments’ expedition.
With the appearance of that one, I believe the cycle is complete. A few Tinder stragglers re-emerged quite outta nowhere. Spoke to the Stripper Whisperer once or twice more. Giant and I had some musically inclined convos in the days since he showed up. I still get random hearts from Gelfling. Poet posted a pic of me to his Instagram, I had a tiny hissy fit and moved on.
Shark Week started this morning and I had a moment where I thought I might get through the day without tears. That didn’t happen, serves me right I suppose, I get proud for a minute and the gods say nay.
I have a thousand things to do today, all of them in juxtaposition with the other. I have to go here to get there to turn around and do the other thing. I am chipping away slowly…but I am feeling kinda hopeless. It’s colouring everything.
I feel dirty and tired.
The sudden appearance of any of these men from my past isn’t shocking to me, happens all the time. Sometimes I react and sometimes I can just shrug it off.
I am on my way back to Florida in 14 days.
I can’t honestly say if I will see Lumberjack before I leave. I am seriously wondering if we will last into the New Year.
I do know that I need to get laid something fierce.
In lieu of sexual healing I will take a baptism in the ocean. Maybe the good kind of history will repeat itself and the past can get caught up in a current and float far away from me. Leave me clean again.
No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony
No ‘who cares’, no vacant stares, no time for me
Hozier, From Eden