Friday, June 24, 2005

I am sitting in the booth in my kitchen. The booth is blue vinyl, the table is silver, it is a round booth and it is the heart of our house. Everyone is drawn to it. Even though we have a dining room with a dining room table, much roomier, ten will squeeze into the booth. It's nice for everyone to squeeze, to be close. Friends don't touch each other that often or that much, so it's nice to squeeze into the both. To feel love.

And it is here, at the booth, that I am thinking, this is me. I am good enough. Maybe sometimes I can believe this is true. I wonder if I will be able to teach my children that they are always good enough, there never needs to be a doubt in their minds. I hate this doubt. It serves no healthy purpose. It only tears me apart. It is so loud at times, but right now it's quiet, a nice reprise.

I've been on my own all week. In the past, I had panic attacks. This time I didn't feel scared. Most of the time I noticed how much time there is in a day, and how many more days I have to wait for Aaron to come home. Maybe I am feeling this separation with such impatience because we were recently apart for a month. I was away, it is so much easier to be the one who is away. I don't like being apart. I believe in independence, that being codependent is unhealthy, but I do not like being apart. I can be mean to myself. Telling myself that this is weak.

Tomorrow feels like it will last a long, boring time. It is not going to be just a regular day, it is a day of waiting, waiting, waiting. Aaron will come home late at night, so I have the entire day to fill. I have no plans and I am sure I will feel every second of every minute of every hour. I think I will practice being good enough. Perhaps tomorrow I will lay around and read a book, for pleasure, and not feel one little doubt, one speck of guilt. A guilt-free day. Too bad I know what guilt is, and too bad I know how to punish myself. I should be working working working. Research, educating myself, creating, I will only feel good about myself if I do productive work. Only productive people are happy and successful. Only productive people make money. Only productive people are smart and guiltless. What if I lived my life without all of these pressures? What if I merely enjoyed myself? What would life be like without all of this nagging, pestering, badgering, self-loathing? My word this week has been surrender. Surrender to the idea that life is about pleasure, not about suffering and pain. I will try this out and let you know.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

I want to make a curtain which looks like the essential parts of the mess I have created.

The mess I have created, painted nonsense all over the sky. Is a result of the allowances I have given myself, they way I have allowed myself to feel everything which pains me.

This Satuday is a holiday. What will I do? Maybe I will sit at liesure and stare at the wall of my room. A million post-its stuck all over it? Maybe the post-its will be fluttering, waving with the wind. But then maybe they will be still. Silent as the ideas written on them.

My new canvas has been waiting for me for a few days now. Can't seem to muster the courage to attack it, disfiguire it. Create a mess again.

From one mess to another. What does it matter?

I won't talk as if I am telling you things, which happen in my life. Again and again and again.

I'd rather bounce words off your ears and see how they sound. Your ears are rabbit-ears. You have no sense of time and place. In the middle of June you wait for the rain with an open ubrella. No open umbrella will get wet, without the rain.

I want to fill my BA form today at the open-university. What do you think will make more sense, Sociology or Political Science? Political Science can take me ten steps in the direction of becoming an ace speach writer for the next PM-A-Large... :) Maybe?