Too much of a good thing is still never enough

7:05pm

"Let me tell you something you don't know
Let me tell you something you don' know-oh-oh

If you keep the secret I will show
If you keep the secret I will show-oh-oh

I'm burning for you..."

---KREO - "Burning For You"

There has been nothing written here in a while. I put pictures from a week ago. Visually, I can share without having to find words. Words have been eluding me lately. The words that I do speak I have been trying to be clear with.

I am finding that the fusion of who I became because points in time forced me to be and who I was that I would like to be again is not something so easily unfused. I know that through the years there has been growth and that because of the growth I am less likely to be rigid in some beliefs. The growth has happened through struggle (coerced) and by the simple ticking of the clock (naturally). As I have been trying to interact with people on a more regular basis, I am reminded of the intense divide I feel.


"You think that I can never laugh again
You'll see
You think that you've destroyed my faith in love
You think after you've done
I'll never find my way back home
You'll see, somehow, someday.

All by myself
I don't need anyone at all
I know I'll survive
I know I'll stay alive.
All on my own
I don't need anyone this time
It will mine
No one can take it from me
You'll see..."

---MADONNA - "You'll See"


I touch so many lives and I see the joy that it brings. I wish I could feel that joy more often. The divide is not that there are a lack of people to be around. It has to do with being present and open to them when I am in their presence. So many years of being on automatic pilot and not trying to get out of the confines where I have made myself semi-comfortable. Safe, and yet not. I've tied the hands of an ansy artist. I've chained a mischievous cherub. I have set them free for brief moments but never long enough to do too much harm or too much good. Ok...well, these have all been words typed for my benefit and understanding. I have a way of being vague but I always know what I'm talking about so it doesn't matter in this forum how specific I am for those other eyes reading.

Some specifics.

I spoke with my brother, Philip, last week. I let him know I wasn't going to make it to his wedding in June. I woke up last Tuesday with that feeling of not wanting to get out of bed. I hadn't slept well. I knew that having a conversation with him was weighing on me. I took the day off of work and tried to explain as best I could my reasons for not going. We're family, but we are not close. It's hard to try and explain my depression, my personality, my quirks. I try to see him as a man to have a conversation with, but history and memories are strong. He's still a little boy in many ways to me.

7:44pm
I ate too much food. A whole package of spaghetti. A whole jar of sauce. Over-eating is another way that I deal with feelings that I am not settled with. Usually it's ice cream. I'm a big bloat boat. BLoat BLoat BLoat. As I washed the dishes that I cooked with, I started to cry thinking about some brief words that Charles and I exchanged before he left work and before I ate. "It's a very fine sieve I weave." I said to him in response to him telling me that I have a way with people and that I "filter" them very well. I cried because it's overwhelming sometimes to feel the joy of bringing people together. Not just my joy, but I feel it in 360 degrees. I am closed or have been described as distant for reasons. Even good feelings can stop me in my tracks, not just the wells of depression. I quickly washed the pot and headed to my room as the tears were pulled out from each bounce up the stairs to my room. I was dry by the time I reached the top and started to write.

I got an e-mail response from Marthalee from my letter last week. Lanny wrote me an e-mail. Passed out in front of the TV last night and moved to my bed at 3am. Jorge was warm and his warmth felt good.

I fell very sick now.


WEEKEND QUOTES/MEMORIES:
"I don't like him, not like a child molester not like, but somewhere between not paying your taxes and being a child molester."

"Finding Dawson's Crack"...thank you Charles.

The picture of a dildo near Ken's ass.