breath. i just finished FLW. I couldn't handle it all at once--I've been snagging pieces every night till now. i read the two posts that appeared in my absence. I've listened to Tyler's drone on TV while sipping my tea while reading your words while my mind hasn't stopped.
today is just one of those days. I'm not exhilarated nor exhausted. I'm calm. I'm silent. Passive, observant. Thinking a lot about a lot.
Trying to breath and escape my self-imposed Guilt. I read this article about feeling guilty yesterday which nailed me (and I think everyone I know, really). Is guilt something learned? When and how did it swallow me--and how do I get out? That is something I want to start facing and owning and crawling/climbing/leaping/bounding/walking my way out of. In time. in my guilty time.
God I am thirsty and anxious. I keep fooling myself or tricking myself into thinking that it will feel better, I will feel better, once I have more of my wine. The problem is, I am realizing...today...is that maybe I'm holding the wrong glass. I'm thirsty for something I don't have right now---so drinking more and more from this bottle of cheap and convenient wine I have will continue to leave me thirsty because what I really need is Water. (or Tea).
The Jolly Cricket is my wine. Cory is my wine. Jared is my wine. Even Chessie and Sarah are my wine. Aaron, I don't know what he is. You, ajna, you are not wine. I am very aware that I do not have you here to sip at my leisure. I thirst for you. Alana, darling, you are like a mirage. I don't dare let myself thirst for you.
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pour me another glass, stan. pour away under the star filled sky. that is, after all, the usual place.
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