i don’t go fast. i go big. when you catch me in my natural state (more so at night), i’m moving things around me very fast, but if you look into my eyes, i’m completely fixed. the speed is an illusion. it’s the power to make things move by remaining very still. but i feel compelled to disguise this unless i am very comfortable. i don’t really like the world to go too fast because my core is slow. powerful but slow.
the reason i am cautious of connections is because people are always robbing me blind. i don’t think they mean to, but when i decide i want to give, i give until the person stands up and is in a good place. but some people aren’t looking for a boost, but rather, an energy source like an IV, so they pretend they’re trying to stand up, but they end up draining me. since david, i’ve been good about recognizing these types and avoiding the initial connection. to be honest, that 47 year-old guy and his hostile greedy refusal to take no for an answer was symbolic of what compelled me to move to seattle–i needed a place where i can connect on my terms. i don’t judge why people drain in an unhealthy way, the intentions behind this run the spectrum of motivation and intent, but from a purely problem solving point of view, i’ve had to be more conscious of relationship dynamics and be careful that i fully understand the connection as it develops. particularly when i’m being compelled to give and it’s a strong and pure energy source, i have to receive something back so i can balance what i’m giving. sometimes all i need back is a conscious understanding and appreciation that something greater is happening, and honoring that.
i feel compromised in the day time. the sun still gives me hell unless i wear a hat, which i like to do anyway when i don’t want people having a direct line at my eyes. it’s like when an off-duty taxi turns his light off. it means i’m taking in, not giving out. but i can tell i’m not complete. like being not as sharp…half of me hasn’t fully come through into this world. that’s why i appreciate a great sunset. it’s like an opening ceremony. when the sun goes down, i get the best of both worlds–i have beautiful light without direct sun to gather myself in peace before moving into night where i am closer to myself and can do the greatest good.
i’ve been looking at that 22 in the date and thinking it seems to be beaming a sparkle of magic, but it’s not really a 22 day. It’s a 24 day.
and then randomly opening a book to page 42, i found the magic for someone.
42 on 24.
my instincts are good.
i am happy to have been given the opening to do it.
it’s okay. don’t be afraid.
find a simple life.
i am a self-actualizing gemini, but don’t be mistaken. i am a raging sky, a tempest, a flood. a saharan desert of grains and grains of sand revealing everything and nothing. i am one tiny person, heart in hand, thinking, at the bottom of a silent ocean. i am human–fighting for what it means to be human, so one day, i will be familiar to anyone who has never believed in their own reflection.
i’m sitting here writing, and there are two repair people fixing my dryer (a man and a woman) out of view on the other side of the kitchen. here are snippets that i’m overhearing. now imagine me sitting in my living room, typing this all out, quietly giggling.
Woman: How far do we have to pull it out?
Man: Enough to get my fat ass back there.
Woman: Be careful of the pipes.
Man: It’s okay, I know what I’m doing.
Woman: We’re going to have to pull out more.
Man: I think I have enough room to make this happen.
Woman: (breathlessly) Oh, you’re almost there…you’re almost there…oh yeah, you’re almost there.
Man: (grunts)
Woman: I wanna get back there to see this. Oh God, why am I so fat…oh, it’s just a little piece. It’s just a little piece that you have to pull off.
Man: I think you can totally work it from the front.
(I struggled so hard to keep my laughing silent that I got a side cramp)
dear other,
if anything should ever happen to me,
promise me you will write.
am trying to work up the motivation to try on my bridesmaid dress for my cousin daisy’s wedding next week. it’s strapless so the only things expected to hold up the dress are my breasts, so i’m thinking, if there’s anyone who’s going to end up exposing herself at the wedding, it will be me. 12 years ago, when i wasn’t yet the composed, super mature woman i am now, i got slightly (incredibly) drunk off my two cocktails at the reception and as legend goes, hit on the cameraman mercilessly and then nodded off during the banquet. my cousins still refuse to let me live it down, even when i bring up the fact that my cousin who got married was pregnant at the time of her wedding (and yet i’m the enduring scandal?!?). now i’m so scared of this dress and its potential for comic humiliation, it just hangs in my closet, taunting me.
i always tell the truth. but some details of truth, i take my time revealing until the moments feel right.
unexpected but not altogether surprising. i had a feeling it was 50/50 if it was going to be a specific someone or someone new. now the question is, is there an unknown person holding greater lightning who is actually behind this person in time?
or does that reveal occur during Act III: San Francisco–The Journey Home…
people think i know san francisco because i grew up in the bay area. to be honest, it’s as foreign to me, yet romantically familiar, as seattle. i haven’t explored it yet. i’ve been saving it for the most interesting chapter.
i’ve been erroneously describing seattle as temporary. more accurately, i’m establishing it as secondary. how i would describe northern california? major.
i am capable of the patience of a saint, or i have less patience than would fill a thimble.
it all depends.
the mood.
the thought.
the weather.
how much you mean to me.