little update and then its time for some advil and a cigarette

Here kitty kitty... - little update and then its time for some advil and a cigarette

Super Star Six Year Old

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[Jul. 15th, 2005|10:19 am]

[	Current Mood	\|	hopeful	]
[	Current Music	\|	Annie Lennox	]

A quick recap:

There was

The Prince
The Tortured Poet
The Genius
The Teacher
The Artist
The Rocker
The Fighter
The Tennis Star...

What sort of candy do I want next?

I know who he is. I know who he is. But if I always knew who he was, then why have I spent so much time dating everyone else?

I feel resolved. I feel less sad. I feel rested. The anxiety of being alone has crept into my house, into my room, and across the floor towards me but has stopped just short of my feet where it cannot get to me... I have at least learned how to prevent a total overake of lonliness by learning to stand on a stool, the floating fluidness of fear and anxiety oozing past the legs but having a difficult time climbing them.

The stool may be short still, but it's stable, it's perfect in it's shape, and it's been crafted by my own hands for my own purposes, refinished and refinished making the legs slick and perfect--no acid, no liquid, no salt water will take me down. Of this I am certain.

So I am living in a rained-in attic in North Portland, watching the water come in through the hallway, from the ceiling, from the floorboards... and I am here, on my stool, with my umbrella, waiting for the storm to pass, knowing it will, looking out my window seeing blue skies not too far away... not too far away at all.

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