The employees at the DMV were nice to me today...and I am the worst over-packer in the world.

"Hmmm. Should I take the red boots, too? 'Cause the other boots have heels on them...what if we do some walking?" *sigh*

And God forbid that I am not entertained for every second that I am awake. I have magazines, books, music, stuff to write with...all b/c I have the attention span of a gnat and might die if I had to just sit for two minutes. I am going to be gone for 5 days.

For as many times as I bleat "I should've been born a boy!" I am far too into accessorizing. Although I do know of a certain boy out there who packed more than I did when we went on a 7 day cruise, so now I feel better!

My Mantra? "Still holding my breath!"

Goodie! Another drunk one. Which I have convinced myself I cannot be bitter about. Here's why. You go to a bar, odds are quite high that you are going to meet drunk men. it's inevitable, really. Like going to the beach, and meeting a surfer. Or working in a resteraunt, and meeting a crack head.

Making Some Old Stuff New

Bits and pieces. Examples of what I have to pick through to display coherence.

Who cares what you think. Read this, and bite me. I don’t live for you, breath for you, exude passion for you. You just happen to inhabit the same planet that I do, we might chance upon sharing the same space every now and then...for a heartbeat or longer...whatever. The point is I don’t need the approval that you think I should strive for. Don’t want it, if it means that I have to act like you. You live in your perception of the time that you are here, and I’ll live in mine. The less that we try to change each other, the better.

******************

Exploding would be too dramatic for my nature, even though that is what I long for. If anything major ever happened to me, it would be me, imploding. My insides would cave in on themselves and disintegrate, leaving my body an empty box. Looking from the outside in, nobody would even notice that what was essentially me was gone. I would function the same, look the same, smile the same, but there would be nothing of me there, and no one observing me would be any wiser. Exploding would display what is inside of me, and we all know that I am not comfortable with that. Never say what I truly feel ‘cause then I might not be the sweet one. Never say what I really want because then I might not get it. Have fun, but never to the point of ridiculousness – God forbid I look like a fool. Distance is the attitude that I adopt, fear and diffidence are what rule me. While I long, I don’t know quite what it is that I long for. Sometimes I covet the characteristics of red – bold and deep, striking, hard to miss, strong. Most of the time the attributes that I possess are those of sage green. Silent, soft, becoming a part of the milieu. If even-keeled is what I am, then why can’t I be happy with that?

******************

December 16, 2003

To have a conversation like that with someone is like poetry. Magic, movement, art, life. As I want to live it. To explain myself so thoroughly, to be understood and to actually understand, myself, what I am saying, I cry quietly because it is so touching to me. It is hard for me to communicate. It is hard for me to discern how I feel, almost until the minute that the feeling or thought is upon me. To do this unplanned, is startling to me. To reveal myself so well, and not have record of doing so to reflect on later makes me choke with panic. I did not know that was what I wanted until I talked to you. Explaining myself to you was jointly explaining myself to me.

My thoughts are so jumbled, because of this huge release. I don’t want to lose how this makes me feel – I’ve felt the flame flicker and is so in danger of flaming out. A part of me screams that it is done, now just do it. Another part of me wants to get this down so that I can understand, and not keep perpetuating the cycle.

******************

When I understand
My eyes are only one way
Romeo is mine.

******************

As my body shakes
I wonder about reserve
Still I turn over

******************

The Beast

Slouching with booth posture at Denny’s
watching Teddy grin cheerfully at the drunken idiots
while you marvel at what he’s not saying
and what you would be,
with much gusto and gesturing.
I think it makes him better,
(if there was such a travesty
as rank of quality
by temper or ones take on life,
never mind what money’s supposed to get you)
his Adaptability and detachment.
Makes him the tree that stretches
instead of breaking
from the strain of all that social wind.
He may be the next Plato
for all we know.
You think he’s simple, oblivious.
Seems to me that he has the beast
by the same horns
that impale us.

They Think I'm Crazy

It is amazing how hot a face can get when it flushes. All that blood rushing up so quickly that it makes your head appear like a luminous red light bulb. Apparently this causes a chain reaction, too: after my face turned all of its shades of crimson, my hands start to shake and my mouth gets as dry as sand. After a drought. In Arizona. The reaction is so violent that a person who knows me intimately but not at all was able to notice. Curses! This would be hideously galling had communicating my feelings, however platonic, not been the goal. But so it was, and there I was squirming with the foreignness of it all.

Then I get the wedding invitation...dun dun DUN. Not even the real one, but a WARNING one. I swear to God, these things are engineered to torture those of us who cling to the single lifestyle. Yes, I am perfectly happy with my life as is - body image, plans for the future, marital status, or lack there of. No, I do not care the slightest bit about what these people (who sometime remind my of 13th graders, choosing to take the high school social dramas with them into adulthood) think of me. Curious, though. I mean, really thought provoking. The minute that my nosy little hands seperated the flap from the glue on the envelope, I started thinking " 'K. I've got x amount of time to make my body look droolably amazing, create a plan for my life so that I don't have to claim waiting tables anymore, and find me one hell of a good looking man, even if I have to trip his ass in a bar." Curious indeed.

2:17am

The older i get, the less I care. I sit in my car and bob my head, writing furiously, maniacly as the minutes flow past the baby hours of the morning. Florida School for the Deaf and Blind campus security stopping to check that I'm o.k. because I'm looking half-cracked with the motor running and the dome light on. I look weird but I feel just fine. Normal would be the problem for me.

My hand
flashes in and out
of the sunlight
like the fickleness
of my mind

to be the lamb
or the wolf
wearing both skins
is damn near impossible

**********************

Every day I learn how-not-to...how not to look down my nose at other people because my actions (or lack there of) surprise me about once every hour. How not to let go of dignity and respect, in whatever form I cherish it. When I am single and lonely, literally throwing 'bows to stand on my feet and not be crushed in the pit of, let's call it society, sometimes those two things are all that I have. And I can wake up the next day and be happy to have them. I am reminded everyday of how not to put people on pedestals. It's so damn disappointing when they come up short, and you see them bustin' out the step ladder to climb back up there every time that they fall. Even more disappointing when I'm right there beside them with a taller ladder - for it turns out I can't seem to keep my balance, either. How not to wonder what other people would do, or how they will react to what I do. "What do you think - what would you do?" If it mattered, we would all be living this gigantic joint life, called robots, or beings without souls...
What I am working on now is how not to be indecisive. At this point in my life, I would rather jump without looking and sort it all out later than calculate every inch of the fall as I make my way down.
I think I'll work my way off the pedestal in my head first, though.
Then maybe I'll start with a kiddy pool.

Karma has a hard payback rate

************

It's funny, 'cause I really wanted to know you. I'm still not at the point where I would hold my breath over anyone, (we'll see if my face ever turns blue) but I genuinely wanted to see what you were all about, and I wasn't concerned about getting jerked around. This is unusual. As per, I lovingly cut my men from the herd called "not for me, but then I know that, 'cause they're all jerks." If you know it's not worth it, it's easier to lick your wounds and move on. Fade to me, cuddling my old friend disappointment, yet again. Even my confidence is asking "is it me? Really, am I doing something wrong?"

I think I figured out when I was fourteen that I am one big jumbled mass of contradictions. I am very sweet natured, but I can bust out with the forked tongue of a snake when ignorance or injustice abounds. Highly motivated, but willing to lay around in jammies all day, 'cause I don't really feel like doing anything. The shadow of shyness has always stalked me, yet I am a natural entertainer, albeit with a very dry sense of humor (thank you Grandpa Blake)
I like these things about myself. Even I don't know what to expect out of me. But sometimes, my opposing sides cancel each other out, and I wind up feeling like an empty human-shaped nut shell, because the real nut of substance doesn't always get a chance to grow.

"This is me, in a nut shell."
"But Kelly, there's nothing there."

For instance, when I was thinking about what to write in here, I wondered about rage. Sometimes I intuit that I could dig up a lot of good fodder for the garden that is my writing skills, if I could just lose it, totally rage and let go of all of my inhibitions. Such a tiny little space,the creative plot of land that is in my mind. Probably it would wreck it over and back again if I lost some of my control, but ironically, that's what I think I need. Funny, isn't it. If I could just freak right the hell out, just totally rage and let go of all my inhibitions, I think I would be better off. Crazy, but at least I could be creative.
When I learn how to balance my contradictions, I'll be all set.

"So, you lead a pretty, uh, fast life-style...Why are you interested in me?"

"Well, I'm tired of the threesomes..."

K, here's the thing. When you're in the presence "of a lady this time..." and she seems to be at least trying to keep up a ruse of respectability, probably that's not the best thing to come out of your drunken mouth. This being the line that tops all lines, my interest was sparked in compiling a list of other things boys say that have left us all with the same thoughts as Rachel on Friend's "Did you forget who I was for a minute?"

*Please note that I cannot be held responsible for the St. Auggie "vernacular" that proceeds...the dialogue that follows may give you just a peek into why I am so adamant about leaving this fair city, with all of it's quaint slackers and crack heads.

- So, I was trying to hook up with another girl, but she got way wasted and hooked up with some guy...but then I saw you, and I was glad that she left!

- What's your friend's name? (If you're not brave enough to ask her, then you sure as hell don't need to be dealing with me)

- Where are all the hot chicks?

- You're a man hater, huh? I bet I could change your mind.

- Will your man break my neck if I ask for your digits?

And for the moment, my all time favorite -

- Do you come here often?

No joke, you could see the teeth in the back of my head, I laughed so hard at this one.

Life at it's finest is hilarious, and at it's worst, ironic enough to be entertaining.

Why look - just jump...

Hallucinations brim
causing a facial tick
mastering the art of display
across a face that is locked
and mystery-less as a stone

how you would jump
if the stone you'd come to depend on
as expressionless
made heed spontaneously
in it's struggle to be more
than what you needed it to be

No more a stone
than you should be it's miner

***************************

And won't I always start with a crack at a poem. Always striving, anyway.