#i've been journaling

[daggerdoggy]

How could you not care what everyone thinks if you? People are all we have. Community is our only saving grace. Why wouldn't you want your neighbors to think you are good, nice, noble, kind? How could you not care? Why wouldn't you do your best to squeeze every drop of kindness out of your heart before the day is over? And keep refilling it every morning, and keep draining it every night?

[birdsvhstape]

i hope you move to new york

it's weighing heavy on my chest, stone after stone placed on top of me. when you're slowly being crushed to death you don't realize it at first. the first few stones are small. you tell yourself, "it's alright. these aren't too heavy and they're smooth and i can't tuck them away. it's like they're not even there. they feel like nothing."

at first, i was walking around with rocks in my pockets. some were the size of golf balls. i'd roll them around in my palm when i got anxious. sometimes i'd ask myself how they got there, but it never seemed like a question i needed to get stuck on.

before i could answer the question of why i had these pebbles and stones and rough rocks weighing down my already too big jeans, i found myself pushing.

i know when the boulder was placed on my chest. i remember when and how it got there. i even told myself, "i can take it. i can hold it up for minutes. as time passes i'll be strong enough to hold it for hours, maybe even days before my arms would give out and it would press deeply into my chest."

and yes, i did find it easier to hold over time, but i could never get out from under it. like sisyphus pushing his boulder up hill, i too find myself back where i started under the crushing weight, feeling how i felt the first time the weight took my breathe away. one must imagine me happy. one must imagine that my ability to hold up the boulder for longer each time i lift is a reminder that i am strong. life offers challenges ! it's a learning experience !

i'm not sure i understand what i'm being taught. there are still golf ball sized rocks in my pocket that i move around in my hand.

[thatmahblog]

Today my therapist made me realise something that I should have known, and perhaps rationally I knew it a little but not emotionally. My therapist basically told me that I was entitled to my pronouns just like anyone else, cis or not, and that correcting people is not demanding someting special or different. If a cis person gets misgendered they'll right away correct you, no shame, no fear, and I should be allowing myself the same. I am fully entitled to my pronouns.

Nobody ever told me that before and I really needed to hear it. It was actually the first time I cried in therapy, through years of therapy, this was the first time I cried. That's how much it meant to me.

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

Ya’ll, I’m so tired. 

[birdsvhstape]

[birdsvhstape]

[birdsvhstape]

fall is romantic in a heartbreaking way

i like to give advice i don't take and borrow my friend's clothes without permission.

there are a lot of things i wish i did more and less. the leaves are changing color and i am still the same in many ways. i create angry art and then politely smile at the things that inspire it. my bike rides are without a helmet and my conversations are with a poker face.

won't you walk down the stairs to say hello?

won't you return my messages with interest and intent?

the jeans i'm wearing are the same one my heart got broken in. i bring your old sweater on vacation and i wont tell you how it went. they're selling the home i made in my college town and my friends are getting engaged.

this poem is about a lot of people

[birdsvhstape]

suddenly, i'm twenty again. nothing and everything bad has happened to me. i can't escape the sense that something terrible is about to happen. my stomach and heart feel like wet newspaper being mushed around in my body.

paper mache

these days i feel like i'm becoming too much, a weed over growing under a house, moss taking over the sidewalk. i wrote about that once when i was heartbroken last fall.

but i know i am kind.

i fear rabid bats, my ceiling caving in, and losing all of the people i love. will love always feel so far away?

i let myself believe too much last spring. i got a taste of something bigger then me. i want it back.

i don't like feeling afraid when the implication is that i have something to lose.