The Suspense Robs Me Of Lovers And Friends

اعطاء ضوء الظلام
(Giving light of the dark – From the Qur’an)
Glen helped me rationalize a lot of the mess in my stupid brain. It’s not just this one thing that happened. A lot of the time, there are a multitude of things occurring in my heart, even in the smallest of ways, eventually they snowball. But I’m an artist, through and through. Artists tend to feel with an unmatched depth that few understand. I warn people straight up that I am intense, and that can be a hard quality to handle. I hold myself at a distance. I force walls up. I am always within a protective bubble that I admit, I feel I am barely fitting into and always pressing against the walls of. I feel raw and gutteral most of the time, and my highs and lows have a wide range. I can spiral if I don’t stop and remind myself that there is still a tomorrow. However, there is a new emotional experience that I’m getting to know more than I’d like to: Waking up, instantaneously filled with dread, deep in the pit of my chest. Feeling as though I know the world is sitting before me on a dutch angle, is a most unsettling, unwelcome thing. It’s not even that in the waking hours, I recall this feeling– it’s that before I’m even fully awake, that feeling remembers me.
I’ve been told I am very strong more times in my life than I can even recall, and never been accused of weakness, not once. It seems very much this way on the outside. Recently, I was told that I have an amazing poker face (although, I feel like it’s always completely obvious, and that I’m completely transparent). The thing is, my façade is strong, but inside I feel that I am just a weak woman, who is full of selfish wants, who just doesn’t have the will to pull through, who for once just aches uncontrollably to lay down and rest her weary limbs and be at the mercy of the battle.  She does break, and sway, and fall apart. She wades in insecurity and hides herself inside of me. I used to be very much that way on the outside, and was very invisible as a result. As I got older, I determined that this was a bad thing, and that the only way to overcome it was to hold my breath and go forward like the battle had no one to fear but me. Sometimes I feel like the person inside and the person outside aren’t the same.

A decision I’ve come to (and I know I speak of decisions often, and leave you all wondering if I mean them– they’re more like resolutions– I’m not made of concrete, though I am very decisive) is that I’m going to take this music thing seriously. It’s working for me, possibly the only thing that is at this juncture. I’ve been exploring my history with music and it makes too much sense, like the universe is telling me what’s right. I want to love someone, I want someone to love me. I want to be a wife to a wonderful man and have our beautiful family someday. I don’t want to force a future if it’s not in the cards for me. I have to let go of the idea that a life like that one is a definite. I may never have kids. If I wait, and the day comes when that is a decision I can viably make, I may still not have them (for reasons concerning my health– pregnancy past Thirty could be too much for my body). I’ve had to come to grips with this knowledge before, when I was faced with the possibility of losing an ovary. I’d be happy, of course, with even part of that dream. If I was in a position to share my life with someone, and to let my heart be free, even that would be happiness enough.

I’m saving up some extra cash and going to Rock School next year. In terms of a secondary education, it’s extremely inexpensive, and it’s a year long course (I think– it may just be a semester). It isn’t actually supplied through Malaspina, but it is a governmentally recognized course, so I qualify for grants to help pay for it. I would apply as a vocalist, and be vocally trained for studio, and for stage. I would learn staging and production, as well as publicity and advertising. In the meantime, I am looking to join a band, although Rustbucket has suggested that I may be better off to find band members through open mic nights. It just feels so much like no matter what path I take, no matter what goes right or goes wrong, in the end I always end up here, behind a microphone searching for something real. Maybe that’s all I have, and maybe that’s all I should want. I’m 23, for heavens sake. I don’t feel that young most of the time (I’ve lived in fast forward in many ways and lived things few ever will) and have to remind myself that a lot of people see me as being young, even when I don’t feel it. I try to hang onto my levity and my sense of whimsy to get me by and remind myself that despite the ticking clock attached to my body, I have time.

From here on out, until something bona fide drops into my lap, I’m running like hell. I don’t care how much I become tempted by someone, for the sake of my sanity, I need to be cold, and run like my fucking hair is on fire. I am a woman worth chasing. I know it inside that within me there is a woman that a great man should be ever so lucky to have, to fight for, to want, to work for, and to pursue. If nobody feels I am at least worth that, if all of the circumstances are too much of a burden to work past, then I would rather remain alone. I didn’t always want a relationship with anyone. There was a time in my life when I absolutely loved my complete, undeviated, unwavering independence and solitude. Back then it felt like freedom. Now it just feels like a prison. It’s time I became my own jailer and warden. My heart is a hazardous place, for it is the dangerous type. Yeah, that’s right– she’s a lot like you. But I need to. Historically, I find myself repeating this same dance (and I am so rarely actually really attracted to someone, so it’s a day of flying pigs in frozen hell when I am) of having been acknowledged as a prize of a woman, a muse, a beauty, an absolute rarity (their words, not mine), but always for someone else. I find this disheartening, because someone is a ficional being that doesn’t exist. Someday, I fear, I will simply be settling for what is good enough for lack of what is right.

I needed tonight. I spoke my mind, for what it was worth, even if it changes nothing but to get this dread out of my chest. My blood-pressure can’t handle that much stress. I decided to skip the group drink (Tori had another drinking party), lectured some drunk for throwing his garbage onto the beach when he was sitting beside a garbage can, drank an insane amount of coffee at Manza Vinos, and jammed on the beach with Mom and Glen. My inner amazon is here to live another day. I just forgot her for awhile. Hello, walls, how I’ve missed you. The real world is a scary place. No, I’m never gonna be with you… I own a snake, oh yeah.

Someone I care for deeply put it exactly right– I am a lamb in wolves’ clothing. My heart, however courageous, brave and strong, is also tender, sensitive and fragile. It feels with an intensity that burns as the sun. It fears as a desperate man fears of death. It loves until there is nothing left. My heart is a damned fool.

I notice them when I’m with you, a deeper thing that surfaces the more I know myself, the more I understand, the more I try. The surface of a face is such a surface thing to view, the years of life are not enough, it doesn’t show the inner part of someone who can laugh. The more I know myself, the more I cry. Pretty things are what we want to be, I would like to surrender to beauty. I am a fool, the kind that everybody wants to be, ’cause I have you. I am a fool– I’ve fallen fast and hard because of you. You make me feel so beautiful.


~ by Kд§$ị (ИovΔ) on 06/22/2008.

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