Sweetly quiet mood amidst chaos. Boxes piled up and overflowing, newspaper glass-wrapping trash, trash, Goodwill donation boxes; foxes, beetles, weevils (not really...)
Her new house is feeling like home. I even took a nap on the couch today. Easily. Emotions are dying down a bit. God, it's been hard, but she's tougher than she ever was before. And centered. It's a new start, really a new start. She's never lived alone before. Ever. It'll take some getting used to, but once it kicks in, it'll be absolute, ecstatic freedom. I'm glad I could be here for her. I've never, ever been a 'mama's boy' in my life! I've gone from talking to her twice a month for a few minutes at a time, to 24/7 for almost four weeks. I'm proud of her and I'm proud of me. The shit went down, and we stepped up- chin up, foot down. Hearts first.
And here it is... the end. The beginning.
***
I've enjoyed hanging out on the boards here. Felt like the old days. Feels like the new days. But I need some three dimensional friends. All my friends and acquaintances from the past two and a half years went with the relationship. And before that, they went out of survival. I'm alive and a damn sight better than I used to be. Thank you. To whomever and all. Especially, me, for having the good sense to pull myself up out of the shit before I couldn't. Before it killed me. And it almost did, believe it folks. I'm a walking, fucking blessing.
Reiki helped save me. Art kept me alive. But I saved my own life. And I'm here. For better or best. I'm here.
***
Books tonight: 'Poets Reading'...essays on and appreciations of, Pound, Stevens, Dickenson, Hopkins, Neruda, Jarrell...others, written by modern poets. $3.00 wrapped and new at a local used book shop. Great thing about moving back to Marietta: great junk shops. Jim Carroll 'Void of Course'. Everyone knows Carroll as the street-ass-Basketball Diaries-junkie-rockstar, but they don't much realize that the man can WRITE! His first collection of poetry, 'Living at the Movies' was nominated for a Pulitzer. He was 22. Worked for Warhol in the '70's as a script writer. Underrrated poet, eclipsed by his own fucking myth. True heroes show you what to do and not....
***
Working on 'green dress suite'...poems inspired by Llona's photo set 'Green Dress'. Enchanting.
***
(Laughter from the living room. So good to hear. That makes me happy. Jay Leno cracks her up. God bless her...)
***
A secret to homemade spaghetti sauce: add a splash of left- over coffee. Evens out the spice, brings out the sweet in the tomatoes. 1/4 cup to a half cup oughta do it, depending on how much you've made. This is just one way. I never make it the same way twice.
***
About bed time. Heavy lifting and waiting on the cable man tomorrow. A groaning boy needs his rest!
Ciggie then I'm out.
If I can stay away from the boards...
I don't know who reads this, if anyone. Doesn't really much matter. I read it. That's enough for now. I can let go.
"If you see something ugly...don't cling to it.
If you see something beautiful...don't cling to it."
-Buddhist proverb
g'nite
Namaste,
rain.
Her new house is feeling like home. I even took a nap on the couch today. Easily. Emotions are dying down a bit. God, it's been hard, but she's tougher than she ever was before. And centered. It's a new start, really a new start. She's never lived alone before. Ever. It'll take some getting used to, but once it kicks in, it'll be absolute, ecstatic freedom. I'm glad I could be here for her. I've never, ever been a 'mama's boy' in my life! I've gone from talking to her twice a month for a few minutes at a time, to 24/7 for almost four weeks. I'm proud of her and I'm proud of me. The shit went down, and we stepped up- chin up, foot down. Hearts first.
And here it is... the end. The beginning.
***
I've enjoyed hanging out on the boards here. Felt like the old days. Feels like the new days. But I need some three dimensional friends. All my friends and acquaintances from the past two and a half years went with the relationship. And before that, they went out of survival. I'm alive and a damn sight better than I used to be. Thank you. To whomever and all. Especially, me, for having the good sense to pull myself up out of the shit before I couldn't. Before it killed me. And it almost did, believe it folks. I'm a walking, fucking blessing.
Reiki helped save me. Art kept me alive. But I saved my own life. And I'm here. For better or best. I'm here.
***
Books tonight: 'Poets Reading'...essays on and appreciations of, Pound, Stevens, Dickenson, Hopkins, Neruda, Jarrell...others, written by modern poets. $3.00 wrapped and new at a local used book shop. Great thing about moving back to Marietta: great junk shops. Jim Carroll 'Void of Course'. Everyone knows Carroll as the street-ass-Basketball Diaries-junkie-rockstar, but they don't much realize that the man can WRITE! His first collection of poetry, 'Living at the Movies' was nominated for a Pulitzer. He was 22. Worked for Warhol in the '70's as a script writer. Underrrated poet, eclipsed by his own fucking myth. True heroes show you what to do and not....
***
Working on 'green dress suite'...poems inspired by Llona's photo set 'Green Dress'. Enchanting.
***
(Laughter from the living room. So good to hear. That makes me happy. Jay Leno cracks her up. God bless her...)
***
A secret to homemade spaghetti sauce: add a splash of left- over coffee. Evens out the spice, brings out the sweet in the tomatoes. 1/4 cup to a half cup oughta do it, depending on how much you've made. This is just one way. I never make it the same way twice.
***
About bed time. Heavy lifting and waiting on the cable man tomorrow. A groaning boy needs his rest!
Ciggie then I'm out.
If I can stay away from the boards...
I don't know who reads this, if anyone. Doesn't really much matter. I read it. That's enough for now. I can let go.
"If you see something ugly...don't cling to it.
If you see something beautiful...don't cling to it."
-Buddhist proverb
g'nite
Namaste,
rain.
