Let me begin again... -OR- Play and Pause...

So, here i am. you may notice that at times i throw all effort of punctuation, capitalisation, and things like that right out the window. Sometimes i cant be bothered. sometimes i find my schizophrenic keyboard too much of a hassle to obey, especially when i need to just write or purge or involve stream of conciousness. which you havent seen much of yet. Here to you it must seem that i am right in the middle of conversation to myself, like you just walked into the room. and that`s true. But ive been writing to myself for a good twenty years now, and to find a real `beginning` with all the proper introductions and clues would be more of an effort that i would like to endure at the moment. I will tell you things that will help in your understanding of the me that is here, and of the message that is given. i hate misunderstandings, especially when i cannot portray myself clearly. Its one of my biggest self pet peeves. i do have a need to explain myself as accurately as i can, and sometimes ill let you in on some stuff that you ABSOLUTELY MUST KNOW about the way my expression and my brain works. this is to satisfy myself with the knowledge that im going in the right direction.
Another one of my biggest piss-off-ers is this: Being a person who thinks in pictures, vibes, and feelings, I find it difficult sometimes to find the correct words and description of images to lay out my internal workings. I flail and struggle too hard sometimes, when im forgetting the throat connection, very 5th chakra. How can i forget this again, the bridge between my heart, soul, and brain? I need to grab all the under, and all the over, and have them meet in the important middle that is my expression. Tie it up. Knot it good. Hang a weight to see how long it holds...
So having said that, i will say this: I- for well, dammit, most of my life, have had expressionism thwarted, tainted, or otherwise squelched by those of authority, of cruelty, of selfishness. and oh, how old this need is now, and ive barely begun to scratch the surface.
I am losing my words again. so ill take a break and finish this glass of Greens Plus Extra Energy (us pisceans need all the extra energy we can get), and eat this nectarine, and connect with my body for awhile in the act of stretching and fluid movement, and i shall return.
Im feeling small wonderments in this little place here. this blog-dealio.
(while im away, feel free to sing along with Hey Jude playing in the background; i shall not be long)
___

oh how could i forget the stretch in my muscle?
why did i forget the singing there?
ive forgotten the imperativity of breath in my limbs.
reconnect.
plug in.
remember again.
(im shaking from non-food. must eat something healthy now.
the train`s about to derail, and the stations too far away.
so, later...)
~pause~
___

~play~
ok, so im reading about how clinical psychology fails most of the people suffering from `un-happiness` because it doesn't address their fear systems; and then this unignorable interruption... wha-thud! wha-thud! wha-thud! wha-thud! Ripping me from my word womb. Concentration cut, I must shrug the annoyance off and wait it out.
Its Skippy Lady. Shes my upstairs neighbour, who ive never seen, but have this intimate connection with via natural life noises. Its an exercise in tolerance and acceptance, forgiving the louder sounds of other humans, knowing full well there are times that were gonna make our own loudnesses and insistences of auric necessities. Like listening to music louder than normal, because its Sunday and sunny, and makes me feel good. If i can put up with Ms. Skippy McHeavyfoot and her loud living every day, then she can damn well bite whatever she needs to in order to put up with my occasional indulgence in the embrace of volume. (rocking out is just too cheesy of an expression for me; plus it probably implies a cheesier taste in music)
Yeah.
~pause.~
___

~play~
Bit of my horoscope today: `Your drive for satisfaction is strong now and there isn't much that will hold you back from expressing what you want`. Cool. finally. I don`t hold onto daily horoscopes as the be all and end all, but i see sometimes how they are good guidelines for me; how maybe they remind me of things that i already know. And sometimes are so right on that i must pay attention to the wisdom offered. Georgia Nichols is good, but has a penchant for bad puns and cheesy wordplay. She`s still my favorite though, and published in many kinds of `papers`. I get a little daily on on my Google homepage by Rick Levine, and his seem alright so far. (I just found iGoogle the other day, and after some playing around with this-es and thats, ive managed to only put things of necessity on it. My friend calls it Google for Girls. I could see how alot of the shit could be meaningless filler, but luckily I have enough tomboy in me to counteract any excessive frills and fluff. I have too much dislike of the frivolous to want any things like that mucking up my intentions...)
~pause.
___

~play
As of now, 5:09pm sunday, the moon is waxing at 49% fullness. :)
___

Aaaagh... how can i make a pot of rice and lentils when i am virtually lentil-less??? There is no way. Now its just rice.
~pause~
___

~play~
There is this friend that i have that frustrates me to the point of pain. Even the most stable person in the world can have fault-like flaws running through them. I keep finding myself on his shaky ground, usually running full force, when he moves out from beneath me and sends me flying on my ass. sigh. it is so hard to inform the deaf when they refuse to listen. And the blind refusing to see. Or sorrier yet, the one that clings to his misunderstanding like the truth. Missing everything...
I drew a picture of us once on the inside cover of my sketchbook.
me: little flower, surrounded by small white pickets...
he: big fucking mantruck, flooring it, focusing beyond me...
me: ...but i have this little fence around me...
he: ...yeah, but i need to get to where i`m going right now!!! VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo.........
hurts when he ignores any of my pains and wants in favour of his own being immediately satisfied. maybe i`m expecting too much sometimes. but it might be a little more forgivable if he had or reflected some idea of an open mind. Or that he`d even heard me at all. Or that i`m acknowledged and he`ll get right back to me. anything would be better than the quiet pull of his ego. I only pull back then. And away.
___

I may sound cynical or bitter. I'm not. Just maybe about some things. And the friendship i mentioned is valuable. which is why the frustration is there; i must work it out. In the moments when i know i need to walk away from it, i also know i will always go back. We share much that is good. And there is nothing better than the inspiration reflected back and forth. Or the light bulb moments we illuminate each other with. And i don't know anyone else in the world that shares with me such an absolutely fucky sense of humour. Fucky. you'll have to look it up. unfortunately i have the only dictionary...
ok, while typing humour, the American spellcheck keeps telling me its wrong. Ok, im clicking `Add to dictionary`. That`ll learn it.
8:06pm
___

Oh, and speaking of words... One of my many wordal joys is to make new ones up. Its not like im sitting around all say conjuring up verbal spells, or anything. But if it makes the most sense to me and sounds like a word, then ill use it. funny maybe? its a real time saver, i tell ya.
Once again, necessity. i think im i little focused on Necessity and Purpose at the moment; which are fine as tools, but I have to keep a close eye on what im carving out here. i know the thing that can throw a wrench in, and i must avoid it strategically. its a real pain in the ass when it steps up, offers help, then fucks it all up with going too far. over-analyzation. Wait, thats not a word either, is it? huh.
~pause~
___

~play~
Uh-oh. im agonizing again.
if this place here were truly mine, and only, i would not trouble myself with these poky little doubts. i would just write, and i`d do it for me. why the hell would i care what you think, when its only ever me that sees it?
But i care now. fucking thing. so stupid.
ok, no, ill not do this now. my internal dialogue does not have to be so painstakingly projected. fuck it. im angry maybe. im too tired to tell. that makes me laugh.
Oh, the struggle again. all i ever want to do sometimes is write. all i ever want to do sometimes is not fight the reasons why and why not...
These things im saying don't mean anything. they wont touch you or your life. they certainly wont change anything for anyone. i know how hard i am on myself. i know i stop myself from so much. i know the fear always waiting there, around the corner, a little out of sight. Stopping me. This is bullshit. i don't want it anymore. And it wasn't mine to begin with.
~stop~
___