nakedglow

[mothercain-deactivated20231124]

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missing a motel room by the interstate in georgia. 

[nakedglow]

Journal entry:

I silently scold myself for needing to put meaning to everything, to live always in a world of personal little symbols. But i think that's who I am. That's what makes me an artist and a creative. More than that, it's what makes me the human being that I am. I can create something out of anything. And it's all for me, what I do. It's how i care for myself, it is my garden. I have to let it flow out of me, but i think sometimes I stifle myself. For what? A touch of shame? Fear that I will transform into something unruly if i don't keep a tight rein and a hard bit between my teeth? I fear myself so? I am fearsome!!! I am also the gentle morning sun.

It's important that I'm here, and that i live as I do. God is a myth, but that does not steal away the meaning I've always known like a mother. I shouldn't strip that right from myself. I can live here in the spirit that flows through all things natural. It's okay. I love the river.

  I think it's precious that i live my life with other animals who do the same. They show me that i won't change into the hideous beast i fear. I look at them and they're beautiful! They're majestic! They're unicorns who bask in the beauty of their being, even if just for a little bit of every day. How precious it is to have a friend who shares her own private symbols and mystical ways with me. We plunge ourselves into rushing waters hand in hand. I think that if i take my own right to beauty away, i have betrayed all that i live for. I will have knifed the creature inside me. I cannot cut her off from sunlight and water. She is hungry for more. Her rich meats are the thin limbs on the tops of trees as they sway in morning fog. She lives on my hand tenderly reaching for my heart, and resting there a little while. So I will feed her what she needs. I will let the hand stay, and I will let it mean what it means. There is more harm done in not doing so. I am me, no matter what i want to be. I am wild.

Oh How i love to spin and sing in the spring rain! How i love to roll down hills in the summer! How i love gazing down at the hardwood in my parents house as it glows orange with the last light of evening.

How i love to sit in the thick of the woods so still like an animal.

How i love to run fast as i can across a wide stretch of field.

How i love to swim naked under the moon.

How i love to dream strange dreams.

How i love to taste the wind.

How i love to feel the song.

How i love living in my body.

Oh how I love how I love!!!!

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This feeling. Of lying naked in the dark with gods eyes all over me, leaking into every crevice. I welcome shame like a lover, i let it inside me, i lap it up. it licks me clean and wets its fingers. I take it to the beyond and we are radiant. I shunned it, i disgraced it, i hid because i knew. And now i see it was born of my flesh. It has arms to keep my body safe from sorrow.

Only the sorrow still comes, so i take its firm hands and i press them to my waist. It feels the warmth of me and i of it. It melts like butter into my skin and the world dissolves. Light through slatted windows. Red and purple, green and blue and webbing hung in time. White light. Vast fields of color. And then light through slatted windows. Ceiling blurred through murky eyes. A longing. I stretch my arms wide, i lunge into the dark. My breasts heave again. I let it hold me. The god of my youth. It has always been you, it has always been us here together staring up, and looking down. We will always be here together.