My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

0 had i only known

had i known
my last goodbye would be greeted by cold hard stone...
when it could have been met with a smile and kiss that spoke louder than words...

had i known
my last embrace would be an empty fleeting memory...
no longer possessing the warmth and comfort that holds the power to heal me...

had i known
my last words would dissolve into irrelevant meaningless nothing...
when they could have encased within them the power and strength of my love...

had i known
that is was my last chance...
would it have made things easier to bear...
would i have said and done things differently...
would the tears not flood, threating to drown me, but puddle instead...
would the memory of my last hug hold fresher and warm me when i need it the most...

had i only known

'to know or not to know, that is the questions' does your last chance at something change with the knowledge that it is your last chance?  this post was inspired in part by Poetic Asides' Wednesday Prompt...and in part by the tears that still threaten to drown me...

0 signs

...continuation of science...
   which is a
...continuation of books...

He stepped forward.  His approach seemed to go completely unnoticed as she took a book from the shelves, turned it over and began reading.  There was little doubt that he had entered her space and was within her peripheral range.  She kept her trained on the back of the cover.  He watched as she turned the book over in her hands and read the quotes on the front.  After what seemed like an eternity, she placed the book back on the shelf and shifted to the next bookshelf.  He stared openly at her and saw her shift slightly to push the limits of her vision so he was no longer present.  This was a sign.  He should turn and walk away.  He had found that most people looked up or glanced at someone who approached the same space as them.  She on the contrary seemed to make a point of disregarding his presence.  Walk away.  He told himself.  But something about her intrigued him.  Just as he felt like giving into his rational self, she picked up a book that he had read.  This would be the perfect opening to get her attention and force her to escape the bubble she seemed to have placed around herself.  He stepped closer.  "Amnesia Moon.  It a pretty good book."

Thursday, December 23, 2010

0 sketches

...continuation of drawings...

He stood staring into the window.  His eyes sought the object of his obsession.  Obsession was the only word he could use to describe the emotions that tormented him.  He had purposely avoided the cafe for the past two weeks.  Somehow he had figured that if he didn't see her, she would slowly but surely disappear from him mind. It had not worked.  Her image was engraved upon his brain.  Every time he picked up a pencil or pen he found himself sketching her from memory.  Charcoals seemed to me his favorite medium as of late.  For the life of him, he could not understand how someone could weasel their way so easily into his heart.  He looked at her, sitting surrounded as always by stacks of papers.  He wanted to deny that his heart was involved, but the tightening in his chest told him his heart was completely taken by her.  The first time he saw her, she had stolen his breath.  Even the way she seemed so oblivious to the world around her brought a smile to his lips.  He wanted so badly to shake her out of her trance and open her eyes to the world around her.  Instead, he sat there silently and sketched.  Somehow he just couldn't seem to capture her just right.  Several times he had tried to catch her attention, but he had failed miserably save that one day.  He had asked to borrow a chair.  And finally, she pulled her gaze away from her work and looked at him.  If he hadn't noticed the tug at his heart strings before, that moment he found himself completely rapt.  But all she did was nod.  She didn't say a word.  He probably would have stopped coming at that point, however, he felt drawn.  He spent another two weeks just sitting there hoping that maybe what he had seen her eyes in that moment was a twinkle of what he felt.  After watching her for those weeks continue to work as though that connection had not occurred was more than he could handle.  The only way he thought he might be able to let go of her was to walk away and clear his mind of her image.  But she had continued to haunt him.  Each day for the past two weeks her image plagued him.  Where before he might only see her image floating before him once or twice, he was now constantly picturing her.  He gazed at her through the window, watched her work, and wondered if she had even noticed he was gone.  The ache in his heart at the thought that he might never know hurt more than he cared to admit.  He looked down at his feet and contemplated what he should do.  Move on, was what is brain was telling him.  One more look, was what his heart was asking for.  He looked up once more.  He didn't need to memorize the moment or the way she looked because he lived and breathed it every second of everyday.  With a sigh he began to turn his gaze away from the window.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw her look up.  He turned back to find her looking directly at him.  The left corner of her mouth lifted into a half smile.  Her eyes seemed to soften.  She leaned down, never once breaking eye contact and withdrew a piece of paper from her bag.  He watched her eyebrows raise in a questioning manner as she turned the paper toward him.  There staring back at him was the last sketch he had made of her before his hiatus from the cafe.  It had been a decent sketch, but compared to her it had been pitiful.  So, like most of his cafe sketches of her it had ended up in the trash.  How she had come to possess it was beyond him.  But he had every intention of finding out.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

0 drawings

She spread the crumpled coffee stained paper out on the table in front of her.  Tears began to swim in her eyes.  Everyday for the past six weeks she had sat here and barely noticed him.  She was too absorbed in her work to even look up from the papers that were always scattered about the table.  When he first approached her to ask to borrow her sugar, she had mindlessly grabbed the container off the table and handed it to him without once looking up.  That had been the first week she had missed him.  The following week he had come over and picked up a piece of paper that she hadn't even realized she had dropped.  She barely took her eyes off her work, her gaze only reaching high enough to see his outstretched hand.  It wasn't until the third week that she had actually looked at him.  He had bumped into her on her way in.  She had barely been able to keep her grasp of the papers and binders she carried.  His voice caught her as he apologized.  She stood puzzled staring at his profile and then retreating form as he made his way out of the door.  The whole walk to the table she racked her mind trying to figure out why his voice had sounded so familiar.  It wasn't until the next week that she found out.  He came over to her table and asked to borrow the empty chair.  The voice registered once again and her brain finally kicked into gear.  For the first time she looked up and saw him, truly saw him.  Her voice caught in her throat, her heart fluttered in her chest, and her mind for the first time in months went completely blank forgetting the work that lay constantly spread in front of her.  She had smiled and nodded, unable to find her voice.  For the next two weeks she found herself unable to do work.  Everyday she did her best to come in, spread out her papers and notes, and pretend like she was engrossed in her work.  He plagued her mind.  She casually watched him out of the corner of her eye and became a perpetual klutz in the hopes that he might once again pick up something she dropped.  Nothing seemed to work.  He simply sat there scribbling or doodling or drawing or something on the paper in front of him.  As inconspicuously as possible she watched him.  Everyday his hand would fly across the paper, he'd drink his coffee, and then crumple the paper up, throw it away and leave.  After two weeks of watching, curiosity finally got the best of her.  She waited a good ten minutes before she got up to throw something away and casually took out his crumpled piece of paper.  She walked back to the table with the paper tucked in the palm of her hand resting against her leg so no one might notice.  Then she pretended to work again for a couple of minutes, her irrational thinking that she shouldn't open it up right away in case anyone noticed and was watching her.  She stared at the drawing.  Her hand reached out gingerly to trace the lines of the face that stared back at her.  She bit her bottom lip to keep the tears and the emotions that were suddenly bombarding her at bay.  So engrossed was she, she didn't notice the cafe employee standing next her.  "I think this one is his best by far."  She looked up at the employee.  "He draws everyday he's here.  The rest of the staff and I have been collecting them.  We have them hanging in the break room if you want to see."  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  She nodded and stood.  He led her back behind the counter through the kitchen into a small room.  There covering the surface of the walls were dozens of drawings.  She gazed from one to the next.  It didn't take long for her to realize they were in chronological order.  Holding the drawing she had skimmed from the trash next to the first, she marveled at how much the face had changed.  The emotions depicted in the first verses the last were so spot on and complete polar opposites.  With the crumpled drawing in hand, she went around the room holding it next to each image.  It didn't take long to spot the change.  She knew exactly what day that picture had been drawn and was entranced by how well the emotions were captured.  She stepped back from the walls and moved toward the door where she could take it all in as a whole.  The employee, gathering that she was done, spoke, "I admit I always thought it a shame that you never noticed."  She just shook her head as almost four dozen pairs of her own eyes stared back at her.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

0 science

...continuation of books...

He stood there and watched her for a moment.  He couldn't really say what it was about her, but something seemed different about the way she made her way through the shelves of books.  She seemed so engrossed, as though she were outside of the world she stood in.  A part of him wanted to walk away so as not to disturb the peaceful trance the books appeared to have on her.  Walking away would be the smart thing to do.  She was not his usual target.  Under normal circumstances his words would be cruel, but here even more so.  He could hide behind the guise of science.  It would be easy enough to blame his actions on science.  His experiment, however, was very specific.  And she did not fit the profile.  With any good experiment there needed to be some type of control group.  The need to limit the variables was crucial in turning conjecture into well-founded fact.  He glanced over his shoulder at his friend only to be greeted with an encouraging nod.  Turning back to his quarry and shook his head at himself for what he was about to do.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

0 the note

The knock startled her out of her daze.  She sat up in the chair and looked at the screen in front of her.  The video had stopped.  When, she couldn't say.   Apparently she had zoned out.  It seemed like she had been doing that a lot these past couple of days.  The culprit starred back at her on the monitor.  She felt a small tug in her chest, just as the knock sounded again.  "Come in," she called.

The door opened slowly.  Mark shuffled back and forth in the doorway.  While he was an unusually hyper person, the movement reminded Jaycie more of someone who was nervous.  He stood there quietly in the open doorway; his gaze on the floor in front of his feet.  "Is something wrong, Mark?"

"Umm,"  he said as he lifted his head from the floor to meet her eyes.  "I'm not sure."

Jaycie couldn't help but smile.  It seemed strange how often she had found herself smiling lately.  Her eyes darted back to the screen for a split second before refocusing on the antsy intern standing at her door.  "Well, why don't you tell me what's on your mind and we can figure it out together."

"I know you said things were finished.  And I figured that meant that things hadn't gone well again and that you  wouldn't be continuing the sessions anymore.  I got the impression that you were going to move on the next person, but he was really insistent.  He said you two had agreed to give it one more go.  He was very insistent."  The spewed from his lips at such a rate that it took Jaycie some time to process his words.  She felt the tug at her chest again and bit her bottom lip in response.  It was crazy how much a single person could have such an effect on her.  It had been so long since someone had managed to get under her skin like this.

When Jaycie didn't respond right away, he took a breath and continued.  "I can call him and cancel if you want."  His eyes again became glued to the floor.  "I knew I should of checked with you first," he mumbled under his breath.

Jaycie had to say his name twice to get his attention again.  "It's okay.  Don't worry about it.  I'll give it one more go."  Mark seemed to still at her words.  "When is the next appointment?"

"Monday at 10."  His gaze shifted from the monitor to her.  "Are you sure you don't want me to cancel?  I don't want to mess up your research."

A small laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head.  "No, it is all good.  The more input I get the better.  I would hate to have wasted two sessions, if I can salvage them."

"Okay."  Mark nodded and started to back out of the room before stopping.  "Oh, I almost forgot.  He asked me to give this to you."  He held out a small piece of paper toward her.

After she took the paper, Mark turned and walked out of the room.  Jaycie sat there starring at the note in her hand.  She couldn't seem to place the feeling that was gnawing at her.  Finally, she shook off the unidentifiable feeling and opened the note.

Don't blame Mark.  I was very persuasive.  Anyway, I wish I could explain this need for me to get to know you more before we share such an intimate connection.  But I promise, ready or not, Monday is the day.  I was hoping, though, I might have at least one more opportunity to just talk.  Maybe you could give me that and an opportunity to apologize for being such a pain.  Coffee at Maurice's Cafe?  Tomorrow 5 o'clock?  I'll be there.  Hopefully, I'll see you.

After reading the note through a third time for good measure.  She folded it up and put it in her pocket before turning back to the monitor and continuing her transcription.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

0 Peacefully

She sleeps so peacefully, yet not at all
the world seems to stop, slip away, and fall
disappearing right in front of my eyes
threatening to tare away my disguise
     Why does everything suddenly seem small?

Time ticks and fear begins to creep and crawl
building within me, it constructs a wall
holding back the tears that are on the rise
threatening to pour like dark cloudy skies
     She sleeps so peacefully...

She lays there so still, covered in her shawl.
How do I reverse this?  How do I stall?
How do I let go of my fear? my guise?
I'm just not ready to say my goodbyes.
It's too soon for her to answer this call.
     She sleeps so peacefully...

thought i'd explore a new form...rondeau.  took a bit of an effort to get through this.  all was not as easy a word for rhyming.  as for eyes, i ended up switching to it after writing the first stanza with hole as the second rhyme.  the toughest part though was the wall that once kept the tears at bay has begun to crack and crumble.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

0 quicksand

i sink a little bit more every day.  i do my best not to struggle for fear the movement will cause me to sink faster in the abyss.  i can feel the pull dragging me down deeper and deeper into its welcoming arms.  arms that seem to hold the potential for peace and calm.  but that's just a mirage.  it's sweet beckoning call is like a siren tune carrying away sailors to their death is a trap.  i'm stuck waiting to be rescued.  i'm just not sure in which direction i should look for help.  so every day i'll continue to sink a bit further and try my best not to struggle too much, but maybe that's the problem.  Maybe struggling is the solution.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

0 encounter #52...session 2...continued...

Him:  How does it work?
Her:  It's a bit complicated.  I don't exactly see what the future has in store for people.

[She paused and looked down at her gloveless entwined fingers.]

Her:  What I see is the moments and events that the person and I share.  In some cases, depending on personalities and compatibility that may be quite a lot.  But more often than not the relationship is superficial.  More acquaintance than friend.  So while I can see a potential future if my path and theirs continued to cross, I don't see everything.  I'm not sure that makes sense, but I'm not sure how else to explain it.
Him:  So is it possible for you to see and feel nothing.  If you have nothing in common with the other person and you would never be friends, might you not see anything at all.

[She sighed and shook her head.]

Her:  If only it were that simple.  I always feel and see something.  Sometimes it is quicker than others.  But I the experience is very out of body and overwhelming.  It is just easier to avoid touch.  Besides those I most would want to get close to are the ones who will provide the most fodder for my gift.

[She stood up and walked toward the middle of the room away from him.]

Him:  That must be hard.

[He stared at her until she turned around.  She met his gaze and shrugged in reply.  He looked off to the side as though he were thinking. He turned back as the thought took hold.]

Him:  You had a boyfriend.
Her:  I believe we covered that.
Him:  What about sex?

[She stared at him for a moment.  She jaw obviously tensed as she grated her teeth together.  She took a visible breath and looked at the clock on the wall.  She pulled her gloves from her pocket and begins to put them on.]

Her:  It's late.  I think it is time we call this quits.

[He watched her for a minute, opening his mouth as though to argue.  He stopped, shut his mouth, shook his head and stood.]

Him:  Okay, I'll see you...

[She shook her head and interrupted him.]

Her:  I think it would be best to call things quits completely.  It has already been two sessions and I really can't continue to waste time.
Him:  Look I promise next time...
Her:  This is best.  Have a good evening.

[She turned abruptly and walked out of the room.]

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

1 Broken Promise

She stood abruptly, tucked her clutch under her arm, turned away from the table and walked off.  He watched her retreating form, marveling at the way her hips swayed even as stormed off.  She hadn't slapped him.  That had to be a good sign.  But she hadn't said anything either.  Not one single word escaped her lips as he bared his heart to her.  She had sat surprising still and silent.  Though he could see her jaw was clenched and her breathing had slowed.  Both where signs that she was doing her best to hold back the tears.

His gazed turned back to her half eaten plate.  Was it wrong to have hoped she would have been delighted by his news?  Was he fooling himself?  There was no doubt he was taking a chance in telling her.  He was, after all, breaking his promise to her.  She had been so clear about her feelings and expectations up front.  And given such an amazing proposition, how could he not have agreed.  He was a man after all.  He should have been happy with what he had, with what she was willing to give.  But no, he wanted more.  Was that really a crime?

He definitely was not going to give up this easily.  Somewhere deep down inside her he knew she too felt as he did.  Somehow he had to show her it was okay to accept those feelings.  He needed to show her it was okay to accept his feelings.  It didn't matter how many times she walked away from him, how many times she slammed the door in his face, nor how many times she deleted his emails and hung up on him.  Whether she wanted to hear it or not, he was going to tell her over and over again how much he loved her.

As he shook his head at his stupidity, sigh escaped him.  He should never have agreed to the type of relationship she wanted.  And he definitely should not have promised not to fall in love with her.

Inspiration for this post came from Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>clutch, delight(ed), happy].  I feel like its missing something is off or lacking...I don't know, maybe it's just my current mood...

Saturday, November 13, 2010

0 haunting my thoughts...

"happiness is mood not a destination"

i can't speak for others, but i suppose i do look at happiness as a destination.  somewhere i need to get to.  something i need to reach for, look for, strive for.  if i get this...if i do this...if i don't do this...if things go as planned...than happiness will follow.  and i don't think that is necessarily a bad thing.  i guess the problem comes when happiness fades and disappears.  when reaching 'happy', it is as though you finally made it.  that all your worries and fears can subside.  but it's a mood.  and like all moods it comes and goes.  if there are enough 'happy' things in our lives than the shift from unhappiness to happiness will not take long.  if by default you are a happy person, everything you are surrounded by makes you happy and you have a fullfilled life, than the mood switch won't last and you will find yourself in happiness.

my problem is my general mood state is not 'happy'.  for me happiness is fleating.  even surrounded by things that would make a normal person generally 'happy', i am stuck in the world of unhappiness.  so i look forward to those moments...that pitstop along the road of life that provides me with a genuine feeling of happiness.  like most pitstops they are short and distance between is greater than you'd like. 

"happiness is a mood not a destination."  hmm...

Saturday, November 6, 2010

0 a whisper and a touch

He came up behind her and whispered words in her ear that made her blush.  His hand brushed against the bare skin just below her dress and she felt her blush spread and the warmth of the evening invaded her.  His other hand slid slowly across her stomach; his gentle embrace gave her permission to let herself melt back into him.

0 or maybe...

i apologize in advance for the inane ramblings that are about to ensue.  i also apologize for getting lost.  i seem to have lost myself somewhere and am trying to find my way back.  not an easy task, but i'm working on it.  anyway...

i think i steal other people's dreams.  maybe not steal, so much as borrow, invade, trespass or something of the sort.  i know i have a relatively over active imagination that i quite often ignore, but there is no way that my subconscious is able to concoct such outlandish dreams or such realistic ones.  and it seems odd to me that i rarely play myself.  i am always someone else, or i watch from the outside like a movie...i even jump from character to character.  every once in a while i think about the fact (or at least i remember hearing it as such) that  frankenstein came from dream.  and i wonder if maybe that is the real purpose behind them.  to inspire something more.  of course i'd have to remember them for that to happen right.  at least more than the bits and pieces that linger.  and i'm so not a morning person, so there is no way i'm waking and writing down the thoughts before they fly out of my head.  anyway that is besides the point.  i wonder if it is possible to invade someone else's dreams.  i have always believed that there is the possibility that if we were able to tap into certain parts of our brain we would be...i don't know that psychic is exactly the word i'm looking for, but in that realm of things.  when we sleep, we open our subconscious to those things we perceive as impossible.  similar to the idea of young children being more in tune to fairies and ghosts because they lack the logic and realistic world we adults force upon ourselves.  they still believe in the impossible.  well, i think it's possible that those boundaries we put up open up when we sleep.  maybe i do dream the future and thus why i have deja vu moments or maybe i do invade other people's dreams or maybe i see fairies and ghosts when i sleep or maybe my creative side that i have chained up and left to shrivel and die of starvation is making a stand and invading my dream to inspire me.

or maybe...

Friday, November 5, 2010

0 brain wars

i'm a numbers person.  not the show numb3ers, though i must admit it was an enjoyable show to watch.  but that is besides the point.  i'm a numbers person.  i am logical, practical, detailed oriented, and ruled by facts.  in short, my left brain rules.  it has since probably about eighth grade.  its need to push its way to the forefront was probably a self-defense mechanism.  my irrational and erratic thoughts needed some semblance of peace, order and structure.  my left brain was the cure.  still is.  my right brain doesn't quite like that.  it is starving to get out and explore.  i try my best to give it its due, but is not easy to do.  it struggles and in turn it acts up inappropriately or not at all.

i like seeing possibilities.  i like following a hunch.  i like seeing the big picture.  i like believing in more than what i see.  i wish i could let my right brain come out and play more often.  i wish i could open myself up to its potential and not be scared of what might come.  i wish...

Saturday, October 23, 2010

0 fortune cookie #3

"You will be happy in receipt of good news."

Seriously!  What kind of stupid saying is that?  Logically speaking, the news can only be good if it makes you happy.  And what about 'no news is good news'?  Does that mean that aside from receiving bad news you should always be happy?  

Who wouldn't be happy with good news?  But then again, one person's views on what makes news good may not be the same as someone else's.  So in that case good news would not lead to happiness.  But then technically, it is not good news, at least not to the person who sees it as bad news.

I think I'm beginning to talk in circles.  How about we change it to a more interesting fortune.  "You will be sad in receipt of good news."  Now think about some good news that could yield sadness...that I can do...but I'd rather not....

Good news doesn't guarantee happiness, but what other kind of new would bring about such a feeling?

Friday, October 22, 2010

0 bella luna

tonight has the most beautiful full moon.  i was outside during the moon's brightest point.  it was gorgious...howl worthy.  and yes, we did indeed howl.  i can only imagine how bright it would be if not surround by the parking lot lights.  it's times like this i wonder what it would be like to live far out in the country were the only thing that shines at night are the stars and the moon.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

0 books...

She stood staring at the shelves line with books.  Her eyes scanned the titles, took in the look of the spin or the cover if the book was turn out and felt her tension begin to dissipate.  Here inside this giant room, surounded by books, she found a peace that eluded her elsewhere.  She itched reach out and touch the books, run her hand over them, and feel the last of her anxiety vanish.  Books had an unusual affect on her.  She couldn't explain what exactly it was, but she accepted it without question even though being here with people milling around everywhere only helped to feed into her angst.  It was an odd battle these two entities envoked within her.  The need to run and escape the world was intense, but the pull of the books and the calming feeling they brought to her was a need she had to obey.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

0 with just a smile...

She smiles at him, waits for him to meet her eye, watches his lips curl into a sexy little smile of his own, and then lowers her gaze in a shy eyelash fluttering way.  As she watches him through her lashes, she knows he's hooked.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

0 Phobias...

i decided it was time to look up the specific name of my unusual phobia...

telephonophobia -- this is not the fear of the telephone, but rather the fear of making and/or answering the phone...

while looking at the gigantic list of phobias, i came across a couple of others that i have...

Anthropophobia (fear of people or society:  mild, but growing stronger every day); Claustrophobia (fear of confined spaces:  mild, but heightened when other people are in the small space with me); Decidophobia (fear of making decisions:  mild only when other people are effected by my decision);  Doxophobia (fear of expressing opinions or receiving praise:  mild on expressing; strong on receiving); Glossophobia (fear of speaking in public or of trying to speak:  strong when i am not familiar with the people; strong with larger crowds regardless of familiarity; mild with small groups; mild to none existent with children and teens); Iatrophobia (fear of doctors:  strong, but mainly because i am a hypochondriac who would rather not discover if those ailments are real); Monopathophobia (fear of definite sickness; mild, as long as i don't think about dispelling my hypochondria); Social Phobia (fear of being evaluated negatively in social situations:  impairing and growing stronger everyday)

those were the ones on the list that really stood out to me.  there were definitely some interesting ones.  can you believe there is actually a fear of phobias (phobophobia)...

it wasn't necessarily a complete i can only ponder what others i might have...

Monday, September 27, 2010

0 i wish i could just disappear...

i can feel it...i'm on a downward spiral...spinning faster and faster with every turn...i have no grasp...nothing to hold on breath is being pulled out of me through this whirlwind...

my thoughts have traveled lately to the idea of disappearing...just up and leaving...going off somewhere where i can breathe, wrap my mind around things, and recreate myself...

i think about disappearing and not being found...

how do i leave no do i assure the things that need to be taken care of here do i just vanish...

i think about disappearing and i wonder could i really do it...

how can i just let go of who i can i walk away from those i do i just leave them with questions...

i think about disappearing and the idea feels so good...

but how can i be sure that i'm not running from who i am, but rather discovering who i truly do i make sure who i am doesn't follow me, doesn't latch on to me with its sharp claws and keep me from blossoming...

i think about disappearing and i know i'm not strong enough...not strong enough to change who i am...not strong enough to explore the possibility of who i could be...not strong enough to let go of the self that has become a type of security blanket...

i think about disappearing...

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

6 ataxia curse

Watching Jake walk is like watching a drunken sailor.  The walls seem to magically move toward him, nudging him back into line as his devolving gait takes him off course.  And though I do my best to hide it, my heart sinks with the knowledge that as his disease ripens it will continue to eat away at his nervous system until walking is not an issue he will need to contend with. 

This post was inspired by Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>gait, nudge(-e+ing), ripen(s)].  These three words brought back a memory that left quite an impression...I suppose that's why I locked it up in my memory center.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

0 voiceless...part I

"Is something wrong?" 

I could see the uncertainty in her eyes.  She was scared to say what was on her mind.  After a small sigh, she lifted her hands and moved her fingers swiftly like the faster she got it out the less it would hurt.  "My uncle doesn't like me."  It took a moment for me to internalized what she had said. 

My fingers instantly began to move without thought.  "What would make you say that?" 

The little girl reached up, grasped my sleeved and pulled me closer.  Unexpectedly she leaned in and put her lips next to my ear.  "Sometimes after he tucks me in and thinks I'm asleep, he stands in the doorway and cries."  The momentary excitement over the fact that she had finally spoken after over six months of self-imposed silence was dampened by her words.

My heart sank as she pulled away and I looked into her glassy blue eyes.  I shook my head and signed, "Sweetie, your uncle loves you very much.  He just misses your daddy and mommy a lot."

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

4 The Search

Sweat poured from every pore in her body.  The heat of the sun and the miles of walking were wreaking havoc on her body.  She was exhausted.  Every muscle in her body ached, but she continued on following the tiny little creature in front of her.

"Not far now."  She stopped and took a sip from her water bottle.  It was warm, but still it provided relief.  "Just over the next hill."  With renewed focus, she twisted the cap back into place and almost ran up the hill.  Her heart sank as her eyes scanned the terrain.  She looked at the wolf she had been following with dismay.  "Over there."  As her gaze shifted in the direction, she barely noticed the wolf bob its head and disappear back in the direction they had come from.

She moved slowly toward the area that was crowed with hawks.  Her breath caught in her lungs as her brain made sense of sight that stood before her.  She sank down to her knees.  Her mind traveled back to the first time she had met him.  She had been intimidated by his robust form, put off by his easy charm.  She would have dismissed him right away, but the way his eyes feasted on her had sparked something inside her that she didn't know existed.  There had been no doubt in her mind that she would love him until her dying breath.

As her eyes glassed over at the memory, the voices cut into her train of thought.  "Quite tasty really."

"Yes, nicely marbleize meat.  Very tender.  An exquisite robust flavor, I must say."

She felt the bile rise in her throat.  A hand rose to her mouth, while the other tried fruitlessly to cover her ears.  When her brain finally kicked in, she grabbed the charm that hung around her neck, tore it off and throw it away.  The air was filed with the sound of squawking birds.  After a moment, the ability to breathe seemed to return.  She bit at her bottom lip as she breathed slowly through her nose--a mistake she realized as the smell penetrated her facilities.  One of the hawks raised its head and looked at her.  With a small hop and flap of its wings it rose and landed on top of the pendant the crazy woman had given her to help her locate her husband.  The hawk tilted its head as though it were studying her.  "You're welcome to join us, if you're hungry."  Again she found her hand covering her mouth.  She shook her head.  The hawk shifted its head and wings in a odd looking shrug before it returned to its circle of friends.  She turned her head away as it once again began to feast on the dead carcass.

As I explored yet another Three Word Wednesday, I thought I would break away from the use of poetry, suppress my negative feelings and insecurities of conquering prose, and maybe allow some of my untapped creativity to surface.  Along with being inspired with three interesting words [3WW=>charm, feast, robust], this post found additional fodder in a rerun of Reba were Barbara Jean uses the phrase, "feast on the dead carcass of our financial ruin."  (Side note:  I did not get around to creating anything for last weeks Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>break, negative, surface], so I thought I'd make up for it twice over--once here and by posting a short story today.)

0 Mask

She moved her fingers caressingly over the once smooth surface.  Her fingertips picked up on every tiny fracture, each rough crevice, and all of the minute cracks that now marred the once beautiful porcelain mask.  The exquisite fine Italian artwork graced her wall--her totem.  So many times she had gazed upon it, the symbolism poignant only to her.  She lifted the mask from the wall, weighed it in her hand and then let go.  A small smile graced her lips as she watched it break into a million little pieces.  She wasn't happy, far from it.  The smile was a sad rueful one.  The tiny little bits of porcelain represented how she felt inside.  Her own mask, the one she used to hide behind for years, had slowly but surely been eaten away by the the negative feelings and troublesome anxiety that plagued her.  There had been a time were she could control the torment she felt inside.  But the past few years had proved to much.  They had finally broken free, shattering her self-imposed mask into tiny little shards.  She knelt down beside her know destroyed totem and carefully brushed her fingers over the pieces.  As her thoughts wondered, she wondered if maybe it was time that she embrace the negative self that lay inside her.  Maybe that was the only way she could break free and allow her true self to surface.

This post was inspired by Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>break, negative, surface].  It's a week late, but for some reason I had trouble finding the right fit for all three words.  Better late than never, I think.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

0 Smile & Breathe

with the start of a new year, i thought it a good idea to set forth a new resolution.  in reflecting lately, i have found that i don't like who i have become.  i have lost my hopeful, idealistic, and encouraging self.  instead i find that i nitpick and have become more judgmental and jaded.  so my goal is to try to let things go--not allow them to take over me and fester in me.  i have to be more positive.  i have found it not to be an easy task.  every time i turn around someone seems to be trying my patience.  the retorts and annoyance bubbles up within me like a switch has been flipped.  

in an effort to control things within me, i have developed a new mantra that i find myself using quite often.  "Smile and Breathe."  i don't know if it working, but time will tell. 

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

0 encounter #52...session 2...begins

[She's seated when he enters.  She looks up when she hears the door open.]

Him:  I brought you a cup of coffee.

[He walks to where she is sitting and holds out the coffee to her.  She looks at his hand and then at him without moving.]

Him:  Oh, sorry.

[He places the drink on the table beside her and sits down across from her.  She smiles at him as she picks up the cup.]

Her:  Thank you.

[They both sip quietly from their drinks.  She puts the coffee back on the side table.]

Her:  So... / Him:  I...

[Both begin to speak at once than stop.  She gestures for him to go first.]

Him:  I was a bit worried you might cancel.
Her:  Why?
Him:  Well, I wasn't sure if the other night was breaking some kind of protocol for your research.
Her:  Well, I admit that I did think about it, but technically as long as there was no physical contact there really is no break in protocol.  I did record the incident, but you aren't the first volunteer that I have bumped into and conversed with outside of these four walls.  Though you are the first that I have had dinner with.
Him:  That's good.  The not breaking protocol part I mean, not the first dinner date.  Though, I'd be lying if I didn't say I was happy about the dinner.

[She smiled and shook her head at him.]

Her:  So... / Him:  Why...

[Both begin to speak at once than stop.  

Her:  Please.

[Again, she gestures for him to go first.]

Him:  Why would talking not make a difference where touching would?
Her:  Um, because the experiences visualized during the physical contact is an integral part of the research.
Him:  Yeah, but couldn't we just touch again, here?

[He gestured to the room around them.]

Her:  Yes, but the first experience and the second experience wouldn't be the same.  For control purposes, the protocol requires all contact to take place within the facility.  
Him:  Things change?
Her:  Yes, every time.  It's not about seeing the future, so much as seeing a possible future.  When we know what the future holds, we tend to make changes and adjustments to alter certain, usually negative, experiences.  This study focuses on how changing a small detail like not answering a phone call might effect the future and how changing a larger detail like an action that leads to an argument impacts the future.  That's why after each physical contact, we debrief separately and then come back and discuss what alteration will try to change our reaction to.
Him:  Can not answering a phone call really have that big of an effect?
Her:  You would be surprised?

[She took another sip of her coffee.]

Him:  See now here I thought you were using this as a way to find someone with whom you could have a happily ever after with.

[She shook her head.]

Her:  Already found him.  But my 'gift' can strain any relationship.  He is now happily married with two beautiful little girls.
Him:  I thought you said you never had a boyfriend?
Her:  Actually, I believe I said I did not have a boyfriend.  That does not mean I wasn't foolish enough to try a couple of times.  

[She smiled and laughed.]

Her:  My first boyfriend was in high school.  I broke up with him when he tried to kiss me.  Dating in high school didn't go to well after that.
Him:  But you did date again?
Her:  I was naive to try dating in college.  That was a joke.  That was probably when I decided not to date, ever.  A couple of years after college, though, I met a guy who was very persuasive and when we finally did touch, the future was picturesque.
Him:  So what happened?
Her:  I'm not sure how to explain it.  He's actually probably the reason I started this study.  Knowing the future isn't all it is cracked up to be.  It gets tiring and boring.  You make little changes just to see what will happen.  Eventually, while our future showed us together, we weren't has happy as we had been during the first foreseen future.  He could see it in the visions and I could feel it.  Things became strained.  We decided it was best to call things quits.
Him:  So, how long did you date?
Her:  Just over a year.
Him:  And that was it?  Never dated again?

[She shook her head.  They sat quietly for a few moments, each of them nursing their coffee.]

Her:  So... / Him:  Do people...

[They both began to speak again.  This time he gestured for her to go first.  She sighed.]

Her:  Look, it's not that I don't mind explaining some of this stuff to you.  Though, I'm not really use to or particularly comfortable talking so much about myself. 

[She shook her head as she trailed off.]

Her:  I understand if you are not comfortable with the prospect of seeing the future, so to speak.  You wouldn't be the first person to steer clear of my touch.  But you did volunteer for this.  If you've changed your mind...

Him:  I would have thought people would be jumping at an opportunity to see the future.
Her:  You're changing the subject.

[He looked down at his cup watching his finger trace circles around the rim.]

Him:  I know.  I'm sorry.  I haven't changed my mind.  Not at all.  I just guess that considering that touching is as good as having a full blown relationship, I just wanted to get to know you a bit before we dive in and get...down and dirt, so to speak.

[He looked up at her as he said 'so to speak'.  She smiled at him.  He returned her smile.]

Him:  So not everybody jumps at the opportunity to know there future?

[She stared at him for a few moments.]

Her:  No, but even if they did, the touch doesn't quite work like that.

Friday, August 20, 2010

0 genuine hope

The clock's ticking echoed through her brain.  She sat back in her chair, closed her eyes and let out a sigh.  This is crazy.  She thought to herself.  Her fingers moved caressingly over the folder that sat on the desk.  Never before had she felt the need to peek.  Peek, a sigh of laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head, please.  He had invaded her thoughts constantly.  No matter what she tried to do to distract herself, he weaseled his way into her thoughts.  She wanted more than anything to know him--know everything and anything about him.  The folder wouldn't answer all of her questions, but it was a place to start.  

She shook her head.  This isn't just crazy;it is absolutely insane.  I should just cancel.  Her chest tightened at the thought.  While a part of her rationalized it was the smartest thing to do, especially after engaging in activities outside of the research center, she so enjoyed the way he seemed to make her feel.  She had smiled and laughed.  And they were completely genuine.  It was selfish of her to want more of that.  Canceling would provider her with an opportunity to get to know him outside of the folder and outside of the touch.  Eventually, they would touch.  Eventually, things would change.  But it would be so nice to just get to know someone for once.  

The knock at the door disturbed her thoughts.  "Yes," she called out.

Marc opened the door and popped his head in.  "I just wanted to remind you that your appointment is in fifteen minutes." 

She swallowed back the words that loomed on the surface of her tongue.  "Excellent.  Thank you, Marc."  Marc smiled and closed the door behind him leaving her with the sound of the clock ticking away.  Another sigh escaped her.  That too was something she found herself doing a lot of over the past few days.  She looked up at the clock, fifteen minutes.  A smile pierced her lips.  She leaned forward, picked up the folder and filed it back in the drawer where it belonged.  Maybe I'll get lucky and we'll go another session without touching.

0 awkward silence

"So, that wasn't so bad was it?"  Jaycie waved goodbye to James's friends and turned toward him. 

"I think your definition of so bad and my definition are slightly different."  She watched as his brows raise and his lips twitched into a small grimace.  Who was she kidding?  The truth was that she had finally--for once in her life--felt normal.  Yes, her nerves had wreaked havoc on her throughout the entire evening and would continue to do so for the next several days as she played everything over and over again in mind, but she had smiled.  A smile for her was a rare and potentially extinct creature.  Strange how since meeting James only yesterday she had smiled more than probably her entire lifetime.  

A sigh escaped her lips.  "It wasn't so bad.  I actually had a very nice time."  He smiled and gestured with his arm for her to begin walking.  She started off in the direction of her car, acutely aware of his presence next to her.  "Your friends are very nice."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.  I would say you made quite an impression on my friends, as well."  She felt the tightening in her chest as her brain twisted his words.  He must have noticed the look on her face, because he was quick to expand his statement.  "Lucy is usually very quite around new people, but with you, it was as if she had known you forever.  And Marc," they came to a stop in front of her car, "well let's just say he definitely enjoyed matching whits with you.  All in all, I'd say you fit in quite nicely, though I had no doubts that you would."

She smiled.  "Thank you."

"Your welcome."

They stood there for a moment in silence, save for the slight sound of her car door unlocking as she pressed the button.  Jaycie stared at the keys in her hand.  It had been a long time since someone had walked her to her car.  She shook the erupting thought from her mind.  This is crazy.  Your acting like this is a date.  And it is most definitely not a date.  She looked up from her keys to find James studying her.  Her heart squeezed reacting against her will to his gaze.  Jaycie cleared her throat.  "So, I'll see you Thursday, then."

"Yeah.  Thursday."  For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just smiled and took a step back.  

A small pang of disappointment at his retreat took her by surprise.  "Okay, then.  Bye."  She turned, open her door and climbed in.  He raised his hand, with a slight wave, she heard him say goodbye as she pulled the door close.  He took another step back as she started her car and put it in gear.  As she started to make her way out of the parking lot, she glanced back in her rear view mirror to find him still standing there were she had left him.  She smiled at him in the mirror, a mixture of sadness and excitement mingling in her veins.  Until Thursday, she thought. 

Saturday, August 14, 2010

0 nose to nose

She drew in a deep breath.  The internal battle that ensued from such a simple question was crazy.  While her mind battled with the anxiety and fears, she thought about the idea of letting go of it all and maybe for one tiny moment in time she could feel normal.  She longed to say yes, but just the idea caused her chest to tighten.  James seemed to read the impending no on her face.  As she opened her mouth to speak, he leaned forward again, looking as though he were trying to come up with some other argument for why she should join them. 

What ever they were going to say was cut off by the arrival of the waitress.  "So," the waitress looked from her to James, "can I get you something to drink while the you look at the menu?" 

For a moment, she was caught off guard by the smile that pierced James's face that she almost missed his reply.  "Actually, we were just about to join my friends over there.  If you could add the tab to that table's bill, that would be perfect."  

Before she could say a word the waitress nodded and disappeared from the table.  She watched the waitress's retreating form in a bit of a daze.  Her attention was drawn back to the table as James stood, picked up her drink and nodded for her to follow him.  She stood to follow him before her brain caught up with her.  "Wait."

He turned back to her; his lips pursed to one side.  "Look, you are already out.  It would a shame to waste a perfectly good evening.  You have to eat.  Do you really want for me to rattle on and on with reasons why you should join us?  Because I will.  I can be very tenacious."

She smiled at him.  She couldn't help it.  He had a way of making her forget herself.  The battle going on inside of her seemed to settle.  "Is that a nice way of telling me your stubborn?"  

"Maybe."  He gestured toward the table.  "Ready?"

"What do you do?"

He looked at her with a puzzled look on his face.  "Hun?"

"I believe you mentioned our cover story was that you met me at work.  It might help to know where you work in order to keep up appearances."

He turned back toward her.  "Good point.  I own a bowling alley book store."

Now it was her turn to look puzzled.  A bowling alley book store was definitely an odd combination. "Seriously?"

He shook his head.  "No.  While it has always been a dream of mine, I'm not really sure the world is ready for the unique combo.  So I settled for half.  I own Thrice Told Tales, a small book store."

"Twice Told Tales?  Why does that sound so familiar?"

"It's possible you've driven by it before, but I'd guess that you've probably heard the radio show."  He looked a bit sheepish as he mentioned the radio show, as though he were embarrassed about it.

She began to shake her head, when she realized what he was talking about.  "Your Just James."  He sighed at the statement and gave a slight nod.  "Wow."

"Wow good?  Wow bad?"  

If he only knew the number of times she had fallen asleep to the sound of his voice and the way it entered her dreams.  She prayed the warmth she felt in her cheeks did not give away the direction of her thoughts. "Wow good."  She did not want to elaborate any further.

He nodded, "well then, we ready now?"

She glanced over to the table where is friends sat and let out a deep breath.  "Not really, but."  She shrugged off the rest of her thought not really sure where it would take her.  

She turned to start walking toward the table, when he spoke, "wait."  She stopped and turned not realizing how close behind her he was.  The stood face to face.  He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the scent of him.  For a moment they seemed to just stand there frozen.  The world seemed to evaporate around them and she could help but think what it would be like if he just leaned in a bit more. The thought woke her from her trance.  She knew exactly what would happen and she stepped back adding a good bit of space between them.  She didn't say anything, just waited for him to speak.  

James shook his head slightly as though he too had been caught in a similar trance.  "What does the J in J.C. stand for?"

She smiled and shook her head.  "It stands for Jaycie.  J-A-Y-C-I-E.  Somewhere along the way I got tired of correcting people and my name turned into initials.  I have been toying with the idea of legally adding a middle name that begins with a C, but I have been having trouble deciding on one.  So, we ready now?"

With the sexiest little grin, he nodded and walked with her toward the people infested table.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

0 Jiminy Cricket

i've been thinking about hiring a conscious--someone to motivate me and keep me going--someone who will force me to do all the things i lack the desire to do:  dishes, dusting, exercise, not nap, laundry, socialize, take vitamins, go to the doctor, get my eyes checked, quit my job, find a new job, convince me that medication might be a good solution, laugh, cry, clean my bathrooms, wash my car, eat healthy, eat, vacuum, finish reading the five or so books i've started, smile...

maybe what i really want is someone who will do all those things for me.  technically not everything on the list is something i can expect someone else to do, but quite a bit could be done by someone else.  either way i'd need to feel motivated enough to hire someone:  housekeeper, butler, life-coach.  and i wouldn't need any of those things if i didn't lack motivation.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

0 My One Hundredth Post (Technically 97)

today's a special day
hitting 100 is really nice
technically 97, I must say
if you wish to be precise

hitting 100 is really nice
though not something I could have done alone
if you wish to be precise
I was never really on my own

though not something I could have done alone
every word was mine--inspired to write
I was never really on my own
it was a very hard fight

every word was mine--inspired to write
I struggled to find the words inside me
it was a very hard fight
trying to set the words free

I struggled to find the words inside me
yet I pressed on with my plight
trying to set the words free
guided by a love that still burns bright

yet I pressed on with my plight
ignoring the pressure and pain
guided by a love that still burns bright
I use the words to keep myself sane

ignoring the pressure and pain
making me feel like a hundred percent
I use the words to keep myself sane
after all that was their intent

making me feel like a hundred percent
technically 97, I must say
after all that was their intent
today's a special day

(This poem marks a special day.  After seven months, I have hit the one hundred mark--not something I would have been able to do if not for a dream that asked me to rediscover the right side of my brain and the words that have not flown in quite some time.  It only seemed fitting that I would challenge myself with yet a new poetic form.  Hopefully I did not butcher this new form to badly, though I must say it was a fun one to work through.)

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

0 today would be a really good day for a hug...

i'm not sure i can make it through today.  part of me would just like to sit at home alone and allow the tears to fall at will; maybe finally let go of it all.  what i want is my hug; and that is no longer possible.  i'm sure i'm not the only one who will find things hard today, but unlike them, who would prefer to be around family, i like being alone where I don't have to worry putting on my mask.

today should be a happy day--doubly happy.  i feel horrible--wanting to be alone, when i know they don't want to be alone.  i should be stronger, though i know that is stupid to think.  i have every right to feel as i do.

today should be a day of celebration, but under normal circumstances i don't care much for the whole hoopla business.  these are not normal circumstances.

what i would give for a hug...i really miss the hug, today.

Monday, July 26, 2010

0 Just to...

Inspiration: I'd Do Anything by Simple Plan

Version 1...

It had been a long time since she had last felt the need, the longing, the desire that overwhelmed her at this moment. She stood in front of the closet door, closed her eyes, and sighed. Her brain told her to walk away; it would pass. But her body disagreed.

With the shake of her head she pulled open the door and stared at the box. A chill ran through her. She couldn't tell if it was the fear of relapsing, if it was the desire that burned in her, or if she was simply cold. It didn't really matter. There was only one thing that could warm her. Unfortunately, she had walked away from that a long time ago. Too long ago to go back. Instead she would have to settle for what lay in the cardboard box she kept stuffed in on the shelf.

With trembling hands she reached up, clasped the handle and pulled the box to her. She held it close to herself, seeking the warmth of the memories it held. With slow careful steps she walked back to the bed. There as she sat perched on the edge, she begrudgingly separated herself from the box and placed it next to her.

Her hand smoothed over the top of the box like a warm caress. She shook away his image, an old faded photo of the past him that she probably wouldn't recognize today. Biting her lower lip, she ceased the lid, pulled it off and tossed it to the ground.

There it was sitting so neatly on top of all the old memories. A sigh escaped her lips and a faint smile pushed its way to the surface. Slowly she stood up from the bed and withdrew the faded blue button down shirt from the box. Slowly, savoring every moment, every caress, every tingle that sizzled though her body, she pulled the shirt on.

As she wrapped her arms around herself and gently squeezed, she could feel him again standing there next to her. She felt the strength of his arms, the heat of his breath and the warmth of his body against her. She pulled the box to the floor and climbed into bed carrying him with her. As she lay there absorbed in the feel, the smell, and the taste of him, she wished she could turn back time and mend what had been broken. Deep in her heart, she knew that she'd do anything just to fall a sleep with him.

Version 2...

She tilted her head to the side and slide her gaze slowly across the length of him.  She could feel her teeth grating.  It wasn't good enough.  She had made changes.  But still it wasn't right.  He shifted quietly, the soft murmur of deep sleep escaped him.  Her lips curved into a silent snarl.  She concentrated on her breathing, trying desperately to calm the monster inside of her.  The snarl evaporated and she found herself once again looking him over with hope.

Maybe, she thought for a moment.  Maybe it's not so bad.  Again he shifted, the covers slip slightly baring the top of the dragon tattoo that snaked up his thigh and over his hip.  Her gaze fixated on it, boring in on it as though her gaze might be able to erase it.  A low grunt escaped her lips, all wrong

Her brows furrowed and her eyes glassed over as she realized she had failed again.  All the effort she had put in.  The new clothes, the new haircut, the new aftershave, all of it was right.  That evening, as he stood there in front of her, he was perfect.  When he stepped toward her, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, she could smell him, taste him, and feel  him.  But once she had stripped it all away and indulged herself, it was gone. 

She pulled her purse up on to her bare legs and slid her hand inside.  The moonlight that filtered in from the window glistened off the sharp metal surface.  So close, she thought as she shook her head.  Such a shame.  If only he knew that she would do anything to hold him in her arms again...

Version 3...

He stood there decked out in a beautiful black tux.  His eyes sparkled with the smile that seemed glued to his mouth.  There was no doubt in her mind that this was the moment she had dreamed of.  They had made so many plans when they were young.  They had been wild and in love.  The world was something they had intended on conquering together.  Things hadn't gone the way they planned.

So much time had passed and yet when she saw him now, it was as though they had never been apart.  The music started up, a tune she had long ago envisioned the two of them walking to.  Everything was so perfect.  His gaze was steady and strong, just like him.  She got lost in him, entranced by the memories they had shared.  When the line was finally uttered, she almost missed it.  "If anyone should have reason for these two not to marry, speak now or forever hold your peace." 

This was the moment she feared.  She knew deep in her heart that she would give anything to grow old with him, anything for him to try to make her laugh for the rest of her life.  But more importantly she knew she would give anything for him to be happy.  She looked at him watching the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed into his future wife's eyes and knew she would have to find her laughter somewhere else.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

0 happy writings

when i was in college (freshmen or sophmore), i took part in one of those 'secret santa' things. the final gift i received from one of my floormates was very suiting. she gave me a journal for writing. she obviously knew enough about me to know i like writing and that i had a tendancy to write things on the sad side; inside next to the this journal belongs to, she added "only happy stuff." the journal is still empty.

i actually own a lot of journals. i'm not sure what it is about them; i see them in store and think they look so pretty and i know the potential they hold inside of them. most of them are empty; it is sad that the thought of that makes me smile and laugh at the similarity to myself...empty. i have picked them up, grabbed a pencil and sat down with the intent to write; sometimes i just pick them up with the thought of writing, but i don't.

here are these beautiful entities eagerly waiting to be filled and reach their potential and i can't do it. i'm feel lacking; 'you have been weighed, you have been measured and you have been found wanting' (a knight's tale). the fear of marring their beauty and their potential blocks me; i am unable to find my voice. maybe i need to do as i am here, forcing myself to put words together without fear of judgement; because after all who is going to find my words, my thoughts, my ideas of interest.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

0 hidden happiness

i really need to find something happy to write about. these past several poems have been quite depressing really. i need to find my happy place. although, i'm not so sure i have a happy place. i have a place of escape, but it is one of my own making and often leaves me more drained than before. i have a method of release that allows for the calm to flow from me, but seeing as how that is done by writing out the demons finding something happy to write about is not so easy. i think i'm going to have to try a little harder.

or maybe i need to figure out a way to bring my escape into life through writing. but even they hold a bit of sadness in them, as can be seen through my prose.

i'll have to think more on this dilemma.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

0 hair's-breadth

She laced her gloved fingers together, bent her head, and took in a slow deep breath desperately trying to squelch the feeling of anxiety that was building in her.  How she had let Kat talk her into going out to dinner was beyond her.  Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Kat weren't so late.  There was no one to occupy her mind long enough to forget that she was surrounded by people.  She was beginning to feel claustrophobic. 

A rather large sigh escaped her as she reach across the plate to pick up her water glass.  Kat was right; she had been cooping herself up too much.  It had only taken five minutes of sitting here alone to begin to feel the stares.  She knew the stares were all in her head.  There were enough uniquely outfitted people in this world to allow her to blend relatively easily.  She shook her head with sigh of a laugh, "this is crazy."  I can't keep doing this to myself.  I need to face my demons, before they consume.... 

The sound of her phone pushed through her thoughts.  "Hello, Kat."

"I'm so so sorry.  Please. Please. Don't hate me." 

She should have seen this coming; Kat was never late.  "You're ditching me.  You guilt trip me into going out to dinner with you.  Give this whole speech were I'm like the worst friend on earth.  And now you're ditching me.  Nice."  She managed to keep the smile out of her voice.  Strangely enough, she wasn't particularly mad.

"Now you know that's not the case.  Don't make me feel like more of a cad than I already do."

"It's all good.  I guess I just wasn't meant to brave the world today."  The idea of going home and curling up with a good book helped to melt some of the tension that had been building since she left her house to come to the restaurant.

"Don't you dare leave.  You're already out.  This is a good thing.  Stay.  Eat dinner.  I'll catch up with you by the time you're ready to eat dessert."

As if.  She pushed the response back.  "You're joking.  You know I don't like eating alone, at least not out in public.  It would be one thing if the place was quite and scare of people."  She looked around out the overbearing number of people.  "But no.  You had to go and pick one of the most popular, busiest restaurants around."

She could hear Kat sigh into the phone.  "Fine.  But you owe me a rain check."

"Wait.  Who standing up who here." She laughed.  "I don't think I owe you anything.  Lucky for you, I like you.  I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Sounds good."

"Oh, and Kat."


"This does not mean I forgive you.  You better have some major peace offering the next time I see you.  Bye."

"I'll see what I can dig up.  Have a good night."

As she placed her phone back in her purse, she wondered if it was wrong to leave when she had occupied the table for a good twenty minutes and only had a glass of water.  Her thoughts had so distracted her that she was surprised when she turned back to the table and found out that she wasn't alone.  And to think she had managed not to think about him for the past half hour.

"Hey."  James smiled brightly at her.

This can't really be happening.  She mustered a smile, unable to recall the last time she had been this nervous. "Hi.  How are you?"

"Good."  He began to reach his hand across the table towards hers, "And you?"  His fingers came within inches of hers and she reflexively pulled her hand back.  She saw the slight glimpse of hurt in his eyes.

She immediately felt horrible.  "I'm sorry.  It's a  reflexive habit."

"It's okay.  I understand."  He gestured toward another table near the back corner near the bar.  "I'm here with some friends and I saw you sitting over here alone.  I just thought I'd come over and say hi."

She replaced the glass of water she had picked up and sipped from as he talked.  "Good thank you.  I was actually about to leave." 

A puzzled look crossed his faces as he studied her for a moment than the empty and obviously unuse table settings.  As he looked back up at her, she couldn't help but stare at the way brow furrowed.  "It doesn't look like you've eaten yet."

"I was stood up."  It took her a moment to realize how that sounded.  She had told him just yesterday that she didn't date.  She hurried to clarify.  "My friend Kat got caught up at work.  So..."  She moved to pick up her purse.

He reached across the table again.  The gesture was meant to get her attention, force her to look back up at him.  "Why don't you join my friends and me?  We have plenty of room.  And I think you guys would get on well."

She smiled and shook her head.  "You barely know me.  How can you be so certain that your friends and I would get along.  Beside, as I mentioned yesterday, I'm not really all that good at being social."  She sat back the chair with a slight shrug of her shoulders.  "Bad at the whole small talk thing and all."

James smiled at her.  If she wasn't careful that smile could be deadly for her.  "Please, as I recalled you did quite fine with the whole small talk thing.  We did managed to talk for the whole hour.  And besides, how you going to get any better if you don't practice."  He sat back and crossed his arms like he had just won the argument.  Strangely she didn't feel much like arguing with him.

She looked over in the direction of the table were is friends were sitting; one of them was looking at them.  Who am I kidding?  She asked herself as she shook herself out of her contemplation.  "Look I really would prefer not to contend with people quizzing me about my gift." 

It was as though the air itself thickened around her as he leaned forward his jaw clenched a he tried to contain the anger that seems to flare up inside him.  "First you should give my friends a little more credit.  Give me a little more credit than that."  She watched him carefully as his bottom jaw slide back and forth in the hopes of releasing the tension.  "Secondly, they don't know who you are or about your gift.  They have no idea I'm participating in the research.  As far as they are concerned, I met you at work."

Before she knew what she was doing, she reached across the table toward him.  Reaching out toward anyone was definitely not a normal reaction for her.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to insult you, or your friends."  James stared at her hand that lay between them on the table. 

He shook his head, washing away the last of the raw emotions that she had inadvertently stirred up.  "No, I'm sorry.  I over reacted.  I can't imagine what it must be like for you."  His hand stretched across the table towards hers.  He stop just shy of touching her gloved fingers.  "So," they both looked up from their hands, "would you care to join us?"

Friday, July 2, 2010

0 encounter #52...session 1...completed

She finished up the transcript of the newest test subject.  He had researched her.  The thought popped back into her head like an itch she couldn't scratch.  Why the idea of this so intrigued her, she could not say.  She thought back over the session.  It had been so outside the norm.  Yes, it was true that others had procrastinated when it came to the first touch, but most of them had decided to fill the time rambling on about themselves.  They felt the need to explain why they were participating in the study.  A rare few had spent the time hitting on her.  They weren't interested in getting to know her, not as James had seemed to be.

Maybe it was simply the fact that it had been so long since someone seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her.  Most people either looked at her as some kind of freak or were intent on using her.  It was something she had become use to and accepted.  She did have genuine friends.  But most of them she had grown up with.  She had known them long before she had allowed her 'gift' to push her into her own social exile. 

A soft knock on the door stole her away from her thoughts, which she silently gave thanks for.  "Yes," she called out.  The door opened just enough for Marc, today's hyper assistant, to stick his arm in and hand her a note.  "Thanks," she said as Marc smiled and shut the door behind him.  It seems that he had mellowed a bit since this morning.  Unfolding the note, she saw that James had made another appointment.  A small tingle of excitement tugged at her.  She shook it away, but couldn't stop the smile that was beginning to form on her lips.  After a few seconds she cursed herself for being so foolish.  She knew better by now than to allow someone to get under her skin.  He's just another test subject, nothing more!  She told herself as she started gathering her belongs to head home for a nice relaxing evening with a good book.  She tried fruitlessly not to think about the next time she'd see James again.  She growled at herself in frustration.  This is going to be a long four days!

Thursday, July 1, 2010

0 quitting....

i felt the resolve in me twice now, in regards to two different matters.  but still it was strong and certain and i felt a distinct belief that it real.  there was no wishy-washiness to it.  this was how it was, would be and should be. 

one morning after getting ready, i found myself sitting at the top of the stairs as i often do and the decision came to me.  'i have to quit.'  there was a certain finality to it.  like since i made the decision that was how i would be.  it felt good.  and for those few minutes as i sat there letting it sink in, i felt good.  unfortunately i'm a wuss and by the time i made my way down the stairs i knew it would not be.  no matter that it is what my heart wanted.  when have i ever allowed my heart to win out?

that was the first feeling of absolute certainty and acceptance to the way things needed to be.  i wish i could explain how that decision took me, however brief it may have lasted.  i wish i could explain why it was not as it should have been, why i waiver.

as for the second time i was struck by the same intense feeling of acceptance and resolve...well that is for another day...