I remember this feeling. This feeling of being so alone yet surrounded by people who love me. It feels wrong yet sweetly painful. When I get like this I dwell, deep and hard! Oh yeah, baby! But seriously, I get caught up or under a spell or something. I reflect and think. It’s probably healthy in some ways. In others quite the opposite, mentally speaking. I always manage to come out of it though. Usually with the help of friends. Scratch that! ALWAYS with the help of friends. Yet the two I have known the longest and have help me the most feel so far away from me right now. I feel I have distanced myself from them.
I fear they might recognize my same old shit. My letting my emotions run my life! Oh same old Sarah! Ha-ha! Wasn’t I saying just a few days ago that I wanted to celebrate my melodrama?! What was I asking for?! Ha-ha! I can only hide from my own bullshit for so long I suppose. I feel not quite so shattered as the other day. My mind begins to race any time it’s idle…which is apparently a lot. I was just explaining to my husband moments ago that writing helps me slow down my thoughts and sort them out. Jeanette suggested doing so and she’s been right about pretty much everything else ever, so here I am. Pouring my heart out onto this digital page for all to see. People often praise me or feel in awe of my ability to turn off the filters and just say what I feel. What is most frustrating is how few people in the world choose to do that.
Words are what can heal or harm for me. Words can throw me into a euphoric state of bliss! They can tear me down to nothing and I will only want them more. Funny thing about calling myself a writer and being so uneducated on the subject. Fuck it! I didn’t know shit about running a business either, but I did it. I lived with that decision for two and a half years. At some point it became agony. Many days I wanted to run away and never look back. It seems so attractive, running away. To just leave it all behind and start a new life. I’ve done that before, sort of.
I find myself reexamining things I haven’t even thought of in years. What my principles really are, you know, what I stand for. Remembering the fire within myself. Being dazzled by life. Being entranced by music! Gawd, how I had forgotten how fucking great it feels to just listen to an album or make a mix-tape! It is a joy of such simple and single mindedness. I highly recommend it. I have loved music, art and poetry for as long as I can remember (and I have crib memories). Somehow life made me forget how much it all meant to me, what words meant to me. I allowed this to happen. But art always saves, no matter it’s form.
Art and love. How could I ever turn my back on you? Music was my greatest passion. A song is always in my head, if not two or three simultaneously. When I turn a friend onto a song, artist or album and they really dig it? It feels like they understand me, that they’ve seen inside of my soul! I know how that sounds, bring on the melodrama! Ha-ha! I think being in touch with my feelings all of a sudden is good somehow. Like, maybe I had shut some shit down for awhile for a reason and now my system is ready to GO! Only I’m not sure where.
I have been pretty self accepting of myself for awhile now, no major struggles or anything lately. Grateful for that. But the last few days some things have come back. I feel like people are staring again. Had I just chosen to stop noticing or am I suddenly the most interesting thing in the room, everywhere?! Sometimes it gets to me, other times I relish in it. I’m a walking contradiction. I would prefer “charming” but wev.
I feel that deep longing for travel. Well, more specifically, the forgiving nights of Portland. I would fly there on business and soak up the night air like it might heal or save me. I would wander around town to the few local music stores and flip through dingy racks for secret gems. I would talk to store employees and felt camaraderie. I would walk back from Gustav’s drunk on Blackberry Margaritas with a belly full of Farmer’s Schnitzel and smoke the most delicious Marlboro light and bask in the misty glow of the moon!
When I went to coffee school I felt so alone. Determined and all, but alone yet not lost. I felt I belonged there, but I hear most do. I miss being comfortable there on my own. I’m never comfortable on my own. It’s like I’m afraid I will evaporate if I don’t have someone, even strangers, near. But in Portland I didn’t feel that. I would take walks along the water at night after class and let the snowy air bite at my face. In California I wince at even the tiniest chill. Funny that. Life seemed more precious there, like it hung in the balance. Like opportunity or possibility was just around the corner or in the next coffee shop. It pulls at me to return and be cleansed. If only I could get away for a few days and lose myself there.
I feel so tethered, though. Obligations, commitments, attachments, stupid fucking feelings…I can’t imagine making a weekend away on my own, happen. Impossible, actually. Or at least it feels that way. I need to refresh or reboot or whatever the fuck, to just center, ya know?! Shit! *StampsFoot* Normally I would cut loose and go out on the town or something. I don’t know that I have that in me at the moment. I do tend to find it when I need it, but even that isn’t the salve I need. I need deep philosophical conversations! I need art and poetry and love and nature! But I repeat myself.
“Well, Darling, you’re siiiiick!” “They’ll hurt me baaad, they do it all the time, yeah they do it all the time…”