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by goodgirldown, on August 25th, 2007 under Status Quo with No Comments
I don’t want answers anymore. I don’t want solutions. I don’t need peace or calm or quiet or salvation of any kind. I don’t need to believe anymore. I don’t need to feel that there is anything in this world that I can have, that I can attain; that there is any piece of me that will ever be whole. It is simply too much, and I am working with too little; I can only see backwards and I’m falling into places I crawled out of years ago.
So much, there is so much boiling inside of me and every laugh, every smile, every day of silence is just a stitch across a wide seam that burst open such a very long time ago. It’s that same angry heat; that familiar insolence of youth, when nothing made sense and no one was listening, and even if they were, they couldn’t possibly understand.
I’m tired of trying to figure out what I want to do and who I want to be and why I’m not doing more when I all want to do is sleep this sickness away. I’m tired of beating myself up for being weak and needing help and being too proud to do anything about it when I can’t breathe, I can’t speak, I can’t think, I can’t sleep, and all that runs through my head is Girl…you better figure this out before time runs out on you for good.I just want to let go of this. I want to be human again. I want to feel…something different than nothing. I want catharsis.
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by goodgirldown, on August 24th, 2007 under Status Quo with No Comments
No trouble. No bother. It’s no problem. And it isn’t. Nothing is. I can get through anything and everything because every day I have less and less to lose. I really wasn’t always this empty. But perhaps I just kept myself too busy to notice. Apathy is a shallow pool; you can wade there as long as you like, it’s safe and warm and completely untroublesome. But it only takes an inch of water to drown you.
I am so tired of not caring.
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by goodgirldown, on August 23rd, 2007 under Status Quo with No Comments
I think a great many people talk, at length, and great speed, to avoid being misunderstood. And more and more I am just not bothered by the concept. We all want to be understood, we all want to be known, even if it is just for a moment, just by that one special person. But I am tired of explaining myself. I don’t mind clarifying, but with each day and with growing conviction, I lack the drive to explain. If I’m talking, it’s because I have something to say. And if you get it, if you understand, then wonderful. If not, so be it. It means nothing at all in and of itself. I suppose I am just losing the delusion that talking round and round in circles until you’ve twisted your words to fit into someone else’s perspective has any point at all.
But such is the nature of people, always wanting to label, to categorize everything and shelve it exactly in its rightful place; as if by calling it something specific, they can more easily digest the material. People feel this incessant need to define. But there is nothing in this world that is simply this, or that. Things are what they are with no need for anything external, certainly with no need for our justifications. Language is an amazing gift of mind but a terrible torment of soul. I often wonder how much of our lives are determined, or rather, our paths in life, by seemingly insignificant perceptions or impressions. The impressions we leave on people, the perceptions we gather from them. The quick way we look something over and put it in its true, cerebral place, moving on to the next item for consumption, never bothering to pull back that first layer of superficial nonsense to find out what lies underneath.
Sincerity is sometimes used sparingly when the breadth of what you want to say goes beyond the scope of what you are willing to give.
So I find myself, from time to time, being flip to continue walking that fine line of being there without being in it. And I’m not sure that that makes any sense at all, to anyone other than me, but then it’s fairly self serving, so I don’t suppose it needs to make any sense at all.
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by goodgirldown, on August 22nd, 2007 under Status Quo with No Comments
It occurs to me that we are so far removed from everything that it is to be alive, that it sometimes amazes me that people keep breathing all on their own, without some contraption; new and improved, shiny and sparkly, two for one and 99 cents, to make the whole endeavor easier, faster, better for the ozone, and floral scented.
I personally don’t like to cook, take out the trash, do laundry, stop for gas, shop for groceries; all the daily perfunctories. And when I think of it, when I try to explain, I say “I just don’t have the time.” Which is a lie, all I have is time, no matter how busy I am. I have the time, but I don’t want to spend it. Not on those things. I think it comes from taking care of people for so long, but I suppose it’s different for everyone. When you feel, for any length of time, that your hours are accounted for, it makes you covet them…for their own sake. And all of a sudden, you find yourself hoarding time, stealing it away, saving it up, to do nothing at all.
Fast food and one hour photo.
And all the simple joys of truly being alive and connecting; with the world, with ourselves, with our friends and family, they’re reduced to an email, a text message, a store bought Thanksgiving dinner.
The more I become aware of the ever increasing speed of life, the more I make a concerted effort to slow down and stay busy (which is not as opposing an idea as it seems) and just enjoy.
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by goodgirldown, on August 21st, 2007 under Status Quo with No Comments
“I had a dream, and now that dream is gone from me.”
I truly believed that I would save the world. I would win the gold. I would write a novel. I would star in a movie. I would lead a band. I would find the cure. I would be beautiful and loved; rich and famous and I would want for nothing. This is the American dream. Even if you never wanted it, you’re told you should. Over. Over. It’s the underlying current of all media. Absorb it. You are not good enough until. Until. You are not whole until. Until. You could be better. Faster. Stronger. Increase the size of your penis. Your wallet. Your friend count. Bigger houses and bigger boobs. You are not skinny enough. You’re not popular enough. You aren’t doing enough. Time is running out. You’re getting old. Buy in now.
The franchise of the world is disempowerment.
I bought in, too. For some time. How can you not? Children know no better. And then you learn. And you have to un-do all that you soaked in. Those formative years can be a bitch. You manage, though. You opt out. What now? The movie in my head has stopped running. I am no longer writing my autobiography. No one is watching. I am left with just me. And it feels like a long relationship gone bad. The kind of relationship where everyone only knows you as “X’s” girlfriend. “Oh, you know, I was over at X and Y’s place” as if the fact that you’re a couple supersedes the fact that it’s your place. Anyway, it feels like that kind of break-up. Where you realize that you’ve been living with, or living for, someone else for so long, you don’t even recognize yourself. Soy milk? When did I start drinking soy milk? And I hate U2 – shut that shit up already! So what do I like…what do I want to do…where do I want to go…how do I feel about this, about life, about me? Fuck if I know anymore. Everything was always about something else for so long. Nothing was ever about me. Until now.
And now there is just me. One day that will be enough. I hope one day that will be enough.
