spent

i'm still sick. maybe more so. and i've typed three or four emails and a long im which have all left me . . . as i said. plus truth be told i'm annoyed. but the following is NOT what i'm annoyed about and should be read in a matter of fact (perhaps slightly dark humoured) tone of voice.

ya know what's ironic? i take my friendships and my actions in them very seriously - i've made a pattern of that for quite some time. no, that isn't the ironic part. when i was about ten or eleven i had a conversation with my mother. i told her i didn't need anyone. she was very concerned felt that i was detached etc. but i said / was trying to say there are people i like having in my life/want in my life but i don't *need* anyone. she spent a long time - that day and a lot of other days unwittingly convincing me that i needed other people to a kind of severe degree as well as a few other twists to that - eventually convincing em that something horrible will happen if people aren't there for me. i don't have enough blog space to explain the depth of crap in that idea or the thousands of ways i have disproved it.

now, before i go any further, the message of this is NOT to criticize my mother she didn't understand what i was saying to her and i was her kid and she was worried.

now, back to the irony, so here i am this person intense in my friendships but the truth of the matter is that *at heart* i am more or less a drive by friend. not that i don't connect - i like to connect / i'm good at it but then i like to sorta keep moving. which is actually pretty well proven by all the friends that i either didn't or barely kept in touch with. there are -wow- there is almost no one that i have kept in touch with for more than ten years in a row. i'm more fickle than even i thought. so there you go.

so that was the ironic part. now for the random thought part - some days i really wish i could just not interact. at all. grrrrr

but for both the irony and the randomness - i suppose it's too late to change my stripes now especially since my only childness makes me realize that when my parents die - that's that.

all of that contrasts against the intensity of connecting with my boy. yep. it's a good thing. the boy fell asleep on me today and it's the best. and not cuz he's all warm and toddlery and happiness and smells better than bread. but what's really cool is that he has that sense of comfort in me. that i am able to do that for him - that he is content to pass out on me like that. that he seeks me when his world needs a temporary fix. i'm all non-jelled jello just thinking about it.

here's another poem. although this one sucks a bit but it's new so there's that:

only the bottom, the end, the full stop
when no final jerk is coming
(well, there's always some jerk coming)

but the dirt nap,
pushing the grass
only that is the end of hope
er, i mean despair
no difference;
one always living inside the other
interchanging places
like jung's kaleidoscope
the blood bubble of yin and yang

are we clinking glasses
or slamming them over?

only the long sought sod sleep
ends the desire

o, god, let it end the desire


here's another thing - i'm willing to bet you consider that a mostly if not entirely dark poem whereas i consider it mostly funny. OH

Also . . . I can kill you with my brain.