All My Fruitless Urges

Angry enough to make a difference. Bitter Sweet Symphony.
Fell asleep fantasizing that I had written a book called How to Sparkle - and went up to BG to read to aspiring writers in the Creative Writing Program. Said the word "craft" a lot. Explained my defeat as a student of University. Workshop hell, colorful insecurities.

All my fruitless urges ♫



More frustrated than ever and constantly switching gears to avoid my internal plight. Keeping busy. Focusing on things that move me forward cuz back tracking is so completely painful. Why did he give me his phone number if he was going to ignore me? Over and over again, I can do whatever I want - he said. I cannot draw any rational conclusions and I get so angry with myself that I keep trying. Either she found out and threatened him. Or he became overwhelmed with guilt. Or arrogance. Likely the latter. A smirk and a shrug every time the text arrives. Power.

"You're Bored! Your'e bored - you wouldn't be here if there wasn't something missing...."




What did he remember? The train tracks...

I was so proud of myself. Making the connection. Affirming it was all real. Forty minutes of giggles and simple excuses and feigned satisfaction just to keep it going. Gray hair but still the same.

There's a jukebox when I see him. Bits and pieces of future flooded with pride at how far I've come. I'm so not standing in the corn. Irony.

I understand that I have the power. I understand that this is all self created drama. I'm choosing to even think of it. Should move on. Should plot the outline to the safe book. The one that doesn't reveal much. Maybe focuses on adoption - not really relationships. Not the fact that I fell so hard in love and swam through bodies trying to forget-only to give up screaming. I can't have that future. I can't write that book. Like sitting in a workshop being shredded to bits (yes, we take it personally!).

Warm asylum. If i get it back, if I remember what I'm supposed to be doing...what makes me sparkle - it surges this humility I cannot welcome for more than a morning. Cuz - I got kids. "Peter Pan gots kids???"

Sometimes I like the ball in my court - and really - I should always make sure it is. Otherwise I'm subject to others...and I shouldn't be.

I do not have nerves of steel

Every now and then, I look like I am about to go into labor. I keep taking a deep breath in and blowing it out, holding my shoulders down and straightening my back as if to remind myself that I there is something in me that I need to let go of.
Anxiety.

Watching college football doesn't help.
Friggin' Buckeyes.

Shopping for a dress hasn't worked either. (I still haven't found one!!)
Apparently "short" is in, and I'm too short to sport it.

But today, for a moment, there was this sort of eclipse that made me shiver with a smile. I was sitting in a circle with 12 little girl scouts talking about our values and what made each of us special - what each of us contributed to our world; how we "rubbed off" on one another (of course, followed by a leaf rubbing craft!), and it occurred to me that I hadn't thought about the impending flight, road trip or reunion. Truly magical! These little angels invited me into their world and allowed me to be a part of it. It reminded me of when Peter Pan realized he was one of the lost boys in the movie Hook. And he delighted in it, as I did today.




And I'm thankful. That's all I really have to say about that.