Ok, ok, so maybe I am a mellow music girl. Mostly. I've been having this song on repeat in my head that a relative sang that just mesmerized me. It's called Crashing Home:
Storm's raging, now off course to the belly of a whale
the drowning into darkness there is nowhere else to sail
CHORUS: Coughed up on the beach last night, I'm crashing home
I've got nowhere to reach for the light, I'm crashing home
You try to hold me, I'm writhing, we both get beaten black and blue
I hold you, you're smiling, we both learn something true
CHORUS
You pull, I let you, til there's almost no air
I pull, you leave me, we breathe in stale air
CHORUS
You lick my wounds, I bite the hand that feeds me
We pay us back and pretend to love each other sweetly
Bridge: Drop through where the sky is open, I fall through where the questions burn to
where my eyes shine from, to where my heart knows from, to where my soul melts and quenches as hope
CHORUS
...Leastways that's what I heard (no lyrics, maybe I should ask for some, duh)
Anyway. As I looked up into the night sky going back home from doing laundry one evening (I was asked if I felt safe walking late at night and I'm like, well yeah, it's pretty much half a block and what are they going to steal from me: dirty, sweaty, stinky yoga clothes? Good luck with that. But yeah, touch wood anyway), I noticed the moon is again almost full, and it hit me how time truly does fly past. It is already July, and I have not really accomplished much yet. I have moved, true, but that has been a financial drain above all else. Not to mention I've never really cleaned before, and sometimes, sometimes, I think I am allowed to pout, stamp my not-so-little foot and complain that back from where I came from, I had people cleaning for me everyday, never having to worry about a dirty floor or bathroom, and worse, never having to kill roaches, which is what I had to do last night. Roaches: my worst fear. Oh gods. I had to kill one in my bathtub, suffocating it in Oust (TM) and then drowning it in antibacterial liquid soap. Then stepping out and seeing two--count 'em, TWO--roaches, side by side, almost on top of each other (OH GOD WERE THEY MATING????? NOOOOOO) on the hinges of my front door. Oh dude, no. I do not keep food out for the sole purpose of keeping roachies away, and granted, I swept last week, but that's normal for me. But dude, WHY? My neighbor and friend, whose flat I had to camp out in for a while just because I'd rather her over two roaches and a dead one for company, said it's because of the trees (the big ones are tree roaches, she said, but they looked like trash roaches, with the glossy coat and *shudder*), but her flat is closer to a tree than mine, so why did I get roaches and she didn't? Maybe a neighbor's lack of sanitary habits? I.don't.know. Seriously, though? GROSS-O. So yeah, I slept with the lights on, because I was told lights keep them at bay. Shit, I'll go for that. I might have to wait for more funds before doing anything regarding bait/extermination, but I guess I can go looking for future funding. Er. Yeah. And maybe look into going back to "school" in the future: I think I can handle it. Right now, though, there is that roach cadaver in my tub, so I guess I should clean. Oh dammit. Maybe in a while. Nyar. Then there are frames to buy, and a bedspread and tablecloth and mebbe hooks, and man I looked at friend's bathroom and hers looked so much better than mine: I felt mine looked ghetto next to hers... :-( I feel I can be more girly, so I feel I am failing somehow (and not financially, though I am improving at it: sucks to have to be patient and save, though: I never had to do it before: oh well, time to start, right?) So many things to do, so little money. Hopefully things will change for the better.
*********************
Just finished reading these comics my lovely (beloved) boyfriend lent me, and yeah those was good readin'. It's amazing how the human mind can conjure ideas up, string them together to make a story, or even an anthology. Beautiful. Reminds me how I like to write, too, and how my imagination can run wild (though sometimes not in a good way). Stories remind us of our humanity. The human mind is a great wonder, I think so. It houses our emotions and feelings, which come not from the heart, but from our mind, though it does sound more poetic to say I love you from the bottom of my heart rather than (I love you) from the bottom of my hypothallamus. And even that is something we created, our thought processes, our discernment. How do beings think, though? How do we express them? Moreover, we may not the only beings who think and express as we do. But that...wow, that can be an eternal question. Now to answer if it is one we would like to think about forever.
Indeed life is short and time is swift, and we choose how we shape it. I look around and right now, my existence is so different from what I was used to. Then again, now it is also shaped of my sweat (literally), my work, not anyone else's (ok, mostly). It has barely begun. It is difficult and scary standing up on my own new legs, and sometimes the ground looks so near, so familiar, so inviting. But that is giving in. Not just yet. With time, hopefully with support, no, standing up and then learning to walk and run are the goals. One step at a time.
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