These sleeping problems.

Go with your gut. That's what these years have taught me. If you ever have the feeling "Oh, why are we together? We seem wrong for each other! Why is he interested in someone like me? Shouldn't he want to be with someone less...difficult? More boring? With less opinion?"

The answer is YES! Get outta there before you do something that you can't take back! He doesn't want to hear your opinions? That's a problem! You DO have things to say that ought to be listened to by, of all people, a significant other! This is not your overactive imagination talking. These fears are all grounded in truth. TRUST YOURSELF. You are smart and you know how things work. Jeez. What in the world.

I went swimsuit shopping today, which has never been a hobby of mine. I've worn this same swimsuit for two summers, which is much longer than Target ever intended it to be worn. I need to throw it out, it's almost in shreds. Anyway, today first one I tried on, I bought. That's a first. And you know what, I liked the way I looked in it.

My jeans are all too big for me these days. There's all this space between my skin and the denim. Combination of break-up diet of no appetite a few months ago, combined with yoga and running for my sanity, combined with no Alfonzo food for about...10 months will do that. And then when I'm a single lady I go out to eat a lot less. I'm feeling good these days. Feeling good.

Ok I have to stop with the drunk blogging. Nonsense. Also I have to stop eating in my bed while drunk. Both of these things seem like such good ideas at the time. Eh, such is life. Gotta deal with the effects.

The Book of Longing by Leonard Cohen is beautiful. That's about it. It's making me want to write poetry.

Oh you, a living, breathing things like me,

With your muscles stretched across your back.

And worry lines carved into your forehead

The place where I don't go anymore,

Where you undid me.

I was addicted,

to the recognition,

of myself,

in you.

You know quite well, deep within you, that there is only a single magic, a single power, a single salvation...and that is called loving. Well, then, love your suffering. Do not resist it, do not flee from it. It is your aversion that hurts, nothing else.
-Herman Hesse

Today was one of those days that made me want to slam my head up against a wall in the hopes that either a) I'll go unconscious for a little bit, or b) it'll somehow shake up my heart as well and everything that doesn't need to be in there will tumble out. And create space.

I hate to be all mer mer whine I'm so complicated and fucked up, but I am definitely feeling that way right now. I've got some serious problems.

I'm feeling the need to sleep through the next month or so. Two months. I don't know what's on the other side, is the thing, so it might not even be any better. I can't concentrate. Fuck. Jeez, send me something along this way to get me through it all. There is so much pent up in me, it's starting to mess with my mind.

There's rain outside, I had to walk through campus in it. And I don't see anything clearing up any time soon. Eventually, I suppose it will all become too exhausting and I'll finally let go.

I got to sleep in today, and I'm about to go to yoga. Seriously in like five minutes. I'm convinced now that it's saving my sanity. I would be in a different place entirely if I didn't have this to keep me grounded. It's really the ultimate self acceptance. Not acceptance, love. That your mind, your body, is more than enough. So stand up straight, dammit. Take care of yo'self. It's selfish in the best sense. Time devoted exclusively to me, without any real gain for anyone but myself. I suppose, though, that when you improve yourself, then that filters into the lives of those around you.

I woke up feeling off today. I need to learn how to keep my eyes on my own paper, as someone told me recently. Stop comparing, stop wondering what other people are doing, wondering how much better they're doing their life than I'm doing mine. Eyes on my own paper.

"And it was hard, but you were brave, you were splendid..."

For whatever reason, I'll always remember you in the car, in the pink interstate dawn, somewhere in stark Midwest America, sleepy in the driver's seat, my feet in your lap. I always wonder about the lives of those in the run-down houses we pass in the car. I wonder if they have fulfilling lives, if if it's possible to live a satisfying life in one of those drive-through towns. The visors were down because the sun was rising, and the air was a little heavy already. It's eternally summer in my memory. We talked easy, like brother and sister, arguing over something that didn't matter. The music, more than likely, you played that fucking song for the third time. And those strings that tied us together, the strings that were straining under the heaviness of us became a little thicker, slightly harder to cut. So slowly that I kept my head down and missed the glaring facts.

I think

that mostly we all live lives that are very distanced from on another. Even though I'm around people all day, I still have very few truly honest moments with people. It's not that we're all lying. But we all have some sort of face up most of the time. Sometimes, though, for a few seconds, you get a glimpse of that outside layer stripped away, and you connect. That's all I'm trying to learn how to do, is connect.