#journalofsaintjude

[saintjudejournal]

AHHH

Perhaps this is what it means to truly be “alive…

NAKED.

cool sheets rubbing against heat scorched skin_____________

rolling, tossing, turning in freshly laundered sheets.

Quiet.

Save for the hummings of the tiny light blue plastic fan...

refrigerator’s fan,

and a kettle with the promise of lemon tea

bubbling bubbling, bubbling

bubbling in the distance.

-saintjudejournal

(journal entry from 07/04/2021)

[saintjudejournal]

PEOPLE WATCHING

I watched the best scenarios from my mind materialize

gods and goddesses of my youth, the ones that I once prayed to transformed into mere mortals and knelt to worship me.

They bloomed like chrysanthemums

came into fruition, then withered off to die.

I must have died too.

Death by apathy or death by desire

It’s all breeds the same death.

The idealized situations, idealized ideologies, idealized idealizations

situated far from mere thought

         (breath of god moved along the surface of the waters)

that sort of thing.

moving and moving, farther away

leaving ripples, first ripples circling inwards and onward

until all that remained was the tidal swimming in its wake

the past, the time, the then, the now

became the how’s, the why’s

“what if’s”?

 And so

 I watch the worst case scenarios from my life unfold (again and again)

lined up like toy soldiers in the V- battle formation

pointed spears, tainted, poisoned

piercing my sides, my lungs making it hard to breathe.

Twisting, turning

parts dislodged from the inside-out, gutted, knifed, raped

and I think I know that it should hurt.

 It’s all quite boring really;

god’s lips

god’s cheeks

god’s face

god’s hair

god’s eyes

god’s nose

god’s taste

god’s hands.

***

It’s funny; I've been quite disappointed in myself as a “writer” as i just never thought I've done enough to warrant the label...I’m working to overcome that and define the process of writing on my own terms but even now I still struggle with  the so called “impostor syndrome” which ironically, many writers do. I recently submitted some writing to a site for the first time and other than editing/choosing which poems to include, having to come up with an “author’s bio” proved to be probably the most challenging. That been said, having all this time off, I decided to do an inventory of some things I’d written over the years and I was pleasantly surprised to see how much I have actually done. I’ve always been sort of...uneasy I suppose, about calling myself a writer if I don’t actually write but throughout the years it seems I have accumulated quite a bit even if I had to literally spend hours trying to piece together writings at the bottom of a 700 post draft folder. Moral of the story? Don’t be so hard on yourself; every bit counts and you’re doing better than you think! Of course I still have a long way to go but instead of beating myself up about not doing enough as a writer I’m going to try and focus on what I’ve already done and what I can do now while reminding myself that writers write and as long as I am writing, I am in fact...a writer.  God it’s still  so hard to say.

 I first wrote this on an old writing tumblr that I deleted out of spite. Unfortunately i did not date my work back then but it must have been around 2015/2016 ish. 

[saintjudejournal]

NOW THAT WE’VE GOT A LITTLE MORE TIME ON OUR HANDS...

I’ve decided to “get back on here a bit more.” 

This blog was intended to include excerpts from my thoughts/random writings/reviews/thoughts etc (but i’ve been too much of a coward to actually share) so perhaps i will do just that. Going forward, I will attempt to once again share writings/photographs i have created in the past but never posted or deleted during one of my let’s call it “mood swings.” I will also attempt to include excerpts from my actual journals and by journal i mean the bits & scraps of free writing I've scrambled together over the years. I’ve never been quite the type to create a cohesive diary as my thoughts often are too jumbled together or I've got a million different thoughts going at once (seriously how do some people not  have an inner voice!?!?!? and isn’t that the craziest thing!?)

*Sidenote: I’ve been reading Anais Nin’s diaries (and i’m  aware that i’m probably the last person to do so especially here on Tumblr) but man gotta give a shout out to her. The woman sure knows how to keep a diary... can’t relate ha. No but really... speaking of, while reading just the other day, I noticed the sunlight coming in through my windows  illuminating the colors of my comforter a fuchsia-ish cherry red. 

And so i took a picture on my phone.

Looks a little “modern art ish”, non? non?

I will let myself out.