Friday, September 07, 2007

Zombie thoughts of a tired girl

There is a "special needs" cat named Ty that I want to adopt. My heart always yearns to love something broken. It's not sure what do to with offerings from other hearts that are whole. My computer is not working and I will continue to die a slow spiritual death if I can't find some sort of creative outlet. Other than drinking. But that's not creative it's numbing.

I have no TV and just bought a Jack Kerouac compilation b/c when the book fell open in my hands he was writing of San Francisco on one page and New York on the opposite page...I spent five minutes dreaming of the descriptive words of opposite Beloved Cities being mashed together when the book was closed and reshelved, spending the night in it's place between the other books and wished suddenly and passionately that I could somehow mash myself in between those words and breath. I took it as a sign and bought the book. Along with Friedrich Nietzsche's "Thus Spake Zarathustra" simply because it mentioned discussion of the intricate relationship between Christianity and Judaism.

I have a crush on an Irish Bartender whose music makes my muse run high and who doesn't seem to have enough pens; not to mention it is evident that he's no idea what to do with me (surprise) and who would (once again) be a bad choice in the long run, but (for the first time) I don't think that I will choose him.

I am restless, I know that things are changing I can feel it in everything and I know that I have to wait and act. All at once. I can't keep my body still I could never make my mind stop and I see that I am going to start testing my boundaries more than ever very soon. I am told that I am hyper-aware of time, that I just know things and have always known things and will always know...that I will save women and those weaker, that I run away from what I don't know how to deal with and will be stuck in this very same holding pattern until I deal with why and stop acting like I don't care.

I realize that what I have been stuffing back down my throat for years is power that I am afraid I can't contain once it's been released...and I find that I am not afraid anymore. Stirring the pot is a good way to make everything come to the surface - I'll take the good that comes from upsetting that balance even if it means that there is a lot of bad that comes up with it.
Safe is nowhere in my heart, my head. Not for awhile.

Someday.