laid down bare.
intubation raped -
bone cutter scraped,
she waits.
kneeled down prayer.
tick-tock raped -
nervous cold shake,
we wait.


****************************************************************
(mom's best friend since high school suffered complications during open heart valve replacement surgery last night. may Jesus, Mary and the angels make haste to comfort and heal)

i've done more research than create lately.

i literally feel dried up.

the deep down raw emotions i usually feel daily are now the superficial ones of everyday life.... why am i broke? why can't i control my waist line? why is my job so asinine? do i really wana do law again? how corporate am i really? can i find family or criminal lawyers to work for? will i enjoy my weekend with him? will he like me after the luvautumn spell wears off? will i like him? when will it be fall? blah blah blah......

the best way to explain this is a stabbing rupture pain of the spleen verus a mosquito bite on your knee cap or foot. a busted internal organ hurts and pains terribly.... it is deep, warm, cruel and intense. but a single itch can drive you mad.

my life has always been orgasms & ruptured spleens.
deep - internal sensations.

but lately i have been the victim of daily mosquito bites....
surface - external irratations.

ok - this is the thing.... i cycle... not just in moods but in interest, opinion, position, conviction, love, attraction, health.... etc.... sometimes it is a classic text book case of splitting and i literally cannot recall what i enjoyed or hated about something/someone prior to feeling what i feel at that moment... but usually, more often than not... as i grow, study & work at it... it is more of a cycle. a calm, warm emergence into a new part of something. i love God - Jesus, Mary, history, tradition etc... but i also love nature, the moon, ancestors, collective unconsciousness.... when i came to OD i was a protestant christian looking to convert formally to orthodoxy. but i realized the obvious, i cannot or should not convert to anything.... because i cycle. i never lose my christian faith; i never believe in or worship other gods... but as i study christianity, and learn more and more about loving your brothers and sisters, the more i am in love with ALL spirituality... and that love drives me to research, learn and grow. i have tried to stick myself into neat little easy to label boxes... christian, straight, genius, mental patient, corporate, goth, conservative, etc. each time i box up, my soul screams and freaks for freedom. i am much too fluid. i leak and seep and spill... i cannot be contained. this is why i NEED structure for work eventho i fight it - i cannot be trusted to study art hx, anthropology etc for i will be a child without parents... homeless, high or mad.

and so i continue my morning babble not as an explaination of myself to you but instead a permission slip for me.... it is ok that i evolve, revolve, address, regress, change, stay, grow & shrink... i can throw away the little boxes and just live as water.... flowing, chruning, pooling, falling, bubbling, puddling.... the problem with life isn't so much life, as it is my cognitive dissonance... my reluctance to understand and embrace who i am - the real me, not the idea of me i created or hoped for or pretended to be. i have sort of fetished myself - bondange and domination - trying to control desires, impulses, behaviors and thoughts.... and they of course, like any caged animal or catholic school girl, rebelled and took over.... life would be so easy for me if i just accepted who i was - warts, cycles, contradictions and all. and as corny as this sounds, this sunday, my 29th birthday, shall be a good place to start living TRUE and real.

it is safe to want her
to long for her flesh.
to crave the tease-tickle
of her lips on my chest.
it is safe to imagine her taste and smell
for her parts are not threatening
so rape-less i dwell.
it is safe to be open to her and not him
for she cannot hurt me if i let her in.
it is easy to run from your arms to hers
for she gives the cuddle-compassion i deserve.
it is safe to be wetted by sapphoric dreams
for it is your kind that ripped me at the seams.
it may be you that i long to find
but it is safe to let only her into my mind.
i am free to daydream & play
when is there no threat you'll take it away.
it may be you i love and crave
but it is easier to want her than face the grave.
it it safe to want her for it is pretend
cuz it is you i will be with in the end.
it is safe to need her til i see the truth
that it was but one man who hurt me, not the entire group.

i loathe the many windows in this room i sit.
i have an expectation of fall - of yellows and oranges, reds and browns.
but instead i am greeted with the monotony of greens.
the longing for an ending has become so painful and time rudely moves sooooo slow.
green leaves and plants are the endless & relentless coming attractions before a movie and i have irritatingly forgotten what i came to see.

every acorn has been hoarded
the squirrels are fat.
the birds took to walking south, for there was no rush to fly.
the day is long and dull
the air warmed and tedious.

autumn's ghosts take off their sweaters;
too lethargic to haunt, spook or scare.
pumpkins are rotting in farm-stand displays and
costumes and masks cobweb on store shelves.

i loathe the many windows in this room i sit.
i have an expectation of fall - of crisp air, cider & shadows.
but instead i am greeted with the monotony of bright sun light.

the wheel of the year has slowed to a crawl-
i loathe the many windows in this room i sit.
for they do not show me fall.

i can say with certainty that i am straight.  that i love and enjoy men.  but i can also say with the same certainty that i am in need for sisterhood....  i need the warmth, compassionate softness of like-minded and like-built women.  a chance to befriend the parts of me rape has abandoned and labled wrong or dirty.  i need a safe place to re-discover my femininity and sexuality... a place warm and inviting... patient and understanding...  i can't handle the hard & pervertedness of men right now... not while i am looking, needing, healing....  this isn't about orgasm or sex, this is about life and comfort in ones own skin.

does this make sense to anyone else?
what IS this that i am feeling?
needing???

does anyone accept the truth to these almost freudian feelings? the fact that i crave acceptance, sisterhood and softness....  that i still love men and lust after men... but now, today... i just need to heal in the company of safe sisters....

i am accustomed to wild bouts of craziness - be them down and dark or up and exhuberant.  but today this icky calm fills me.  this weird sense of normal-ness.  i wonder if this is how the sane feels daily.... content... peaceful....  ready & rested.

for years i have longed to feel normal.  to be normal.  or at least considered such.  but today, as i sit in the stagnant pool of contentedness, i realize i am forever thankful that i am mad.  lucky to have cyclothymia rather than true deep madness, i get to experience full vibrancy with minimal consequence.  the pain and the pleasure.  i exist as liquid.  not male nor female.  not gay nor straight.  not day nor night.  but all. i can use today as a way to settle some ideas borne out of hypomania and clear the pockets of pain dug by dsythmia and begin to plan my life.  my dreams can manifest here in this my first sane moment.  goals - plans - health - service..... love and others.

the mad are stuck looking inward - constantly aware of themselves.  cursed to arrogant self loathing.  but today, i shall chose to enjoy the time i can spend on you - the others... those i long to touch, love, change and help.  today, i don't need to make a difference so i can feel alive, but i wish to make a difference, so you can.

throat stuft with cotton
hands duct taped behind back
scapula meat hooked-dangled
made retarded
muted
stuft.
cannot write
cannot speak
bare walls
shit-fuck light
prop-less
cardboarded
deaded.
i dangle
retarded
muted
stuft.
please
burn down the warehouse
flood the basements
explode the doorways
make noise...
give me reason
give me pain
give me electricity
give me wind.
i dangle
retarded
muted
stuft.
can't write
can't speak
can't feel.
devoid of reason
devoid of words.
horribly ok
boringly stable
i dangle
retarded
muted
stuft.