Monday, July 03, 2006

honey, now if i'm honest

i know it would be outrageous
to come on all courageous

there are only so many things that i can continue to adore about this place, that i'm living in, i swear. they just keep appearing, and i'm beginning to think i'll be overwhelmed with ridiculous affection, and i won't be able to handle myself. then i'll go crazy. not that i'm sane now...
and it's not just the physical place, either. it's this place that i'm in...sitting in, living in, loving in. because i love lists, and i'm bursting with little bits, i think i'll do it that way.

a. burning incensence and candles. i've gone for two years without doing so, and i just recently remembered that i can burn whatever the fuck i want in my room. sandalwood smoke drifts out my window on a daily basis now

b. the lake, and all things included. in the morning, and at night, it sounds very similar to the ocean. i know it isn't, because the scent is missing...but the sound is so close, i wake up smiling. i haven't done that in years. sunning myself on the dock. the trees behind our house that begin to engulf the back porch, and the attic. i feel that i am living in a canopy...a canopy way up in the trees, and that i have no reason to climb down. i can channel my inner julia butterfly hill. live like a queen in the trees...

c. having a kitchen (again). making scrambled eggs and potatoes and farina and chocolate milk. playing chef. doing the dishes (!)

d. adventures. this comes with summer, always. but it's so much different here, because the parentals are mia. the independence is intoxicating. this feeling that i have is difficult to explain, to make sense of in words, but i think i've phrased it as such before: i feel like i'm actually participating in my life.

e. getting sunburnt. having cleaning fits. vacuuming to blasting classical music. singing sweet jazz on the porch in the dark.

f. the fragile dance i do when i play with my own emotions.

g. being surrounded by people who introduce me to new things. new music, new movies, new authors. new ideas, new perspectives, new thought processes. its like being washed under a stream of fresh life...a different way of living. at work, in the co-op, all around me, there are these people who have a totally strange, completely chaotic way of functioning, but they're all surviving..thriving even. which gives me faith that i'll be able to carry on the way that i do

h. dysfunctional moments of unconventional amusement. in cars, via milwaukee. on couches, listening to records. standing on the porch, and soaking in the glow of the house.

i. watching the fireworks over the lake, and being completely jaded by the blind patriotism hiding within the non-subliminally enforced love affair with our democractic wasteland of a nation. comparing that feeling to how it was when we were young. what changed us? when did we become what we are now? what has happened to those small children, who looked forward to that sultry night in july that was covered in flashing lights, and picnics, and the glorious star-spangled banner. that flag makes me flinch, approaching doors or watching it wave in the wind. i associate it with something else, now. and i do not identify with it in the slightest.

j. there's a mouse in the frying pan.

k. being provocative. awkward. uneasy. outrageous.

l. "i like the way you sing. i can see you, as a young mother, singing to your children." there will be music in my house. always.

there will always be things i miss about the places i've been before. some of them are smallish [standing in the hallway by the drinking fountain. rolling down hills full of leaves. screaming obscenities into the darkness from swingsets and cars.] some of them are much larger [not so much things, but people. and the way we live together. ] but i think that the farther i go outward, the more that will wash over me that i will adore, and it will just build and build until one day i really will burst. i cannot wait for that day. i cannot wait to overflow.

i've got something with me. my soul's kinda gritty. now do i lie or run away. i'll be on my own. it don't matter i'm grown. i won't be singing no sad song. and if i rub you wrong. baby i come on strong. i got no mind to cushion what i say.

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