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And let them fall where they may

In life, there comes a time (or many) when you have to tally up the pros and cons of serious situations.

I'm in such a time, and it's distressing to say the least.

I could list the "on one hands" but it would be a lengthy, boring and unrelated list, even to me. Nothing left but to make decisions on quality of life, how to life it, why, how...you know, logistics-kinda stuff.

While getting the journals bundled up and having hard copies printed out was fun and gratifying, it only showed me how much *true* writing I'm not doing. If I'd expended that much energy on my book as I have my journal -- committing at least an hour a day to this endeavor -- I'd be published 20 times over by now. Then again, that would actually take /living/ life actively to do. Can't be a good writer unless you're living in it (imho). I dunno...great writers can make even the most trivial pursuits seem interesting. But I'm far away from that prestigious group.

Still...I think I've gone as far as I ever will in my writing pursuits unless I suddenly become independently wealthy. I'm WAY too tired for just about anything after work, and even getting on the rowing machine is taking a lot out of me. I don't feel as if I'm getting a full benefit from that doing 15-20 minutes twice a day, and then, feel I'll be doing too much if I go further.

I JUST CAN'T WIN AT THE GAME I SET UP. Geez. Self-defeating much?

To be at personal odds is putting it lightly. Through dreams and yes, nightmares, I see my life ebb and flow, and watch the holes punched and filled, in and out, not making the kind of sense I need it to. Only *I* can consciously do that, and I'm not actively trying. Daily, it seems like I try only to reach the goal, and get in bed. Even THEN, I seem to be falling short. I go to bed and fall asleep sitting UP. Gads.

I miss my house. I hate living in a condo. I want to paint and decorate, and watch the sun filter through my bedroom windows in the morning. I want to sit in my own Florida room with my white, wooden furniture and Laura Ashley blankets and throws, and burn white linen candles while listening to Sarah McLaughlin. Or Seal. Or be in my studio, painting whatever I fancy with a whole day stretched endlessly out in front of me to do or not to do. I want the option of staying in bed when I can hear the rain pelt on my roof. I miss my den, with my large fireplace. I miss the sound of the rain, and my white flowers which surrounded the enclosed patio.

I want those things back. I need to nest. That's what it's all boiling down to. I feel unsettled, and things are askew right now. The steps it'll take to get there seem far, far too uncertain. But I want these things, and don't feel it's too much to ask the powers that be. Is it?

I could hold a grudge against what's his name, but that would do me no good, either consciously or for my karma. Taking my house was brutal and shocking and I don't think I ever really recovered. Taking a /new/ house and making it my own sounds like a dream come true right now. I want that. I want my white flowers and den and studio and built-in bookcases and lazy guest bedroom with extra closet space and baskets filled with doo-dads. I want to watch my neighbors and give them nicknames they earn through their eclectic deeds. I'm transient in this condo, in my life, and it's starting to gnaw through me.

Perhaps that's what these dreams lately have been trying to tell me. If that's true, then I need a plan.

I'm tired. Perhaps I should back away slowly from the keyboard, and save my little dreams and desires for another day, when I'm better suited to articulate them.

And now the sun has ducked back into the clouds. I want to be in my flannel pajamas, warm and soft in the insomnia bed, with nothing to do but sleep.


( 4 whispered — Speak )
Mar. 11th, 2008 04:48 pm (UTC)
Many days do I wish I could turn back the hands of time and change things - or just win the lotto!
Mar. 11th, 2008 07:11 pm (UTC)
I don't /ever/ want "easily won" money again, as it was the reason my divorce was so horrific. I do wish that I had retirement, and know that if I went the full nine yards with the victor alpha I'd receive 100%. I just don't know, mentally, how that would affect me, you know?
Mar. 11th, 2008 06:51 pm (UTC)
Yeah... I know that, in a few weeks, I'm going to miss all that time I had when I was at home...
Mar. 11th, 2008 07:11 pm (UTC)
( 4 whispered — Speak )


Creeping Through The Cellar Door
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December 2015


Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card
Which is blank, is something that he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself;

One must be so careful these days.

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