Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Why do you get all the love in the world?

I guess it's all about being ready to change.  There have been many times where I have said to myself, "Now, its time to change.  Now, I need to change or I'll lose."  Most of those times, I have not been ready, and I have not changed, not drastically enough to make note of it at least.  Old habits die hard, sure, but it's more about me saying, "No, fucking drop it already, ya fuckwad.  Let GO."  Only when I am ready to say that, in a very specific tone and accent, can I start to change.

Today I feel ready to change.  And I am saying to myself, fucking move on.  Much as I've loved people in the past, much as I've wanted to change myself to salvage things with them, I couldn't, I wasn't ready.  I have to make myself ready, and I really feel, this time, that it might be possible.  I am so much more aware of my flaws now than I was even a few months ago, and I am determined to change them.  I am determined to pay close attention to myself and take my fuck-ups as they come and do something about it.  I am determined to take that breath before I speak, to adjust my tone before it is released.

I am fortunate that Duk and I are still friends, and we have the chance to remain very close friends, if we can find the time.  I could not pull myself together for him, but I wasn't ready, and that's how it was meant to happen.  He laid a good groundwork at least, I can look back and see where he was trying to help me, when I was floundering.  Other people are now helping me sift through my shit now, and laying it out on the floor for me to examine, prune, discard, and re-color.  When it's all re-painted, I hope to be much more awesome than I hopefully could be considered now.  Maybe when the walls are a bearable color or combination of colors, I can invite somebody else over to check it out, but not until then.

I'm actually very content being single right now.  I'm very happy being recognizable as my own person, being invited to things for just me, and being known as "someone" instead of "someone's someone."  This is getting off-track, and will end now.

NO WAIT, one other thing.

I think it's really important for people to have an understanding of themselves before they even try to date anyone.  Dating is somewhat experimental, sure, it takes at least once to help you learn how you work within relationships, but when I know that I can stand on my own fairly well, and be less reliant on other people for happiness or coping, then I'll be ready to try another relationship.  The next time I do this, I want to know that I don't have to see this person every day to be happy, I don't want to be debilitatingly upset when they are frustrated/disappointed with/in me.  When I can deal with that, I'll be ready to exist as an individual alongside another individual and I think it will work out very well.  And if it doesn't, it should be all the more easier to separate ourselves and move on, because we will not be dependent.  We can have our own friends, better if they overlap I think, but it won't be necessary for us to be tied at the hip.  Independence is important and I've not believed that or understood what it really is for a long time.

I'm also never going to date someone so soon after meeting them.  For neo-nazi-ex in high school, I knew him a week maybe?  That only lasted about a month.  For Duk, we'd known each other just under a month.  Sure we lasted longer, but things were deteriorating a while before we could actually break up.  Short version: establishing a good friendship beforehand is a good idea.  So yeah.  There you go. [[awkwardly tip-toes away]]

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

"Sparse" poetry

I've been really enjoying writing "sparse" poetry lately.  For me, the idea behind this poetry is that you get a vague idea of a story, or a theme, but you are left to interpret it in your own way.  It's really meant to be interpreted in its vagueness.  Some poetry should not be interpreted, but merely appreciated, I think.

For this week's "sparse" poem, I give you...


The spark of a freshly washed
sock ignited a war
of t-shirts and boxers thrown
across the concrete room.

We had sex on the warm laundry
and didn't
wash the clothes

In these moments in time,
we are static.


Titled tentatively "When I Miss You", originally "Static".  Btw, I have not had sex on warm, clean laundry, but it sounded like a nice, spontaneous location.  I think this "sparse" poetry uses my voice well.  My poetry is generally identifiable by a very easy to understand voice and only necessary vocabulary.  Here, I get the bare minimum with something powerful hidden underneath.  I mean, I think, anyway.   I worry that it doesn't stand alone well, without reading some of my other work (which you can, here: on my deviantART profile).