Forever in the unsolicited pile

This is a sorry day. It apologizes with bouquets of sun and notes from friends, but I don’t accept. This morning I perfectly measured oatmeal and thought, today will be perfect. But I’m feeling alone and unknown. I’m feeling overwhelmed by the miles I still have to go – I can’t possibly “be” what I want to be.  Have you ever felt you aren’t what you are? If that makes any sense.

I want to punch my coworkers for being so content. I finished a can of almonds. I drank cold water from the cooler – it became an icicle down my esophagus.
Yesterday, you said you love me and told me to keep faith, but I’m tired of applying myself with no return and I mean that with jobs and submissions and love. God, I’m tired of this place.

My dad posted those two photos on facebook last night and he said finding them filled him with pride and that he loves us. I’m always so surprised when he says things like that. How could he know? I’ve done bad things with my heart, my mouth, my intentions. I’m still in a place where that matters a little bit to me – what family and people think – do we grow out of that ever entirely? I can’t imagine we do.

I’m spending my day here, picking mascara from my eyelashes, plucking a few as I go along, so much of my unconscious is just waiting to get home to take this skin off.


Comments

4 responses to “Forever in the unsolicited pile”

  1. Lindsey Avatar
    Lindsey

    tonight on the nightside, I sent my mugshots back for sizing/toning repeatedly as “mugSHIT” just to see if anyone would notice. NOT. A. SOUL. Empty as a paper bag blowin down an empty street at midnight is that building! Let’s sharpen knives in a dark room and make art. ;(

    1. Ah the things disgruntled employees do to other disgruntled employees to entertain themselves… =)

      Deal.

  2. In my most philosophical/deranged moments, I am sure that estrangement from self is the greatest affliction of our time. I have taken a lifetime to grow into my skin with any sense of comfort; very much a work in progress. How do we manage to batter or squirm our way to the true self and wear it with no disguise for every day thereafter – while we are still young? The idea of sharpening knives in the dark and making art seems like a promising clue. xo

    1. I’m still at a loss. It’s so difficult, too, because we are constantly growing in and out of ourselves that just as we get comfortable we are uncomfortable again. art is a good constant. art and money? That’s the conundrum…
      xoxo

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