Quite a few things in my life aren't so good at the moment. I can't pay all my tuition, I hate my roommate and I have gotta quit work because they dicked me on pay and all the management are either assholes or bi-polar, and it is generally not wotrth my time. I owe money to the phone company and the power company, and the bank. I miss Seattle and my friends and my job back there . I guess it is all just bitch and moan, but hey, so what, at least I know that. But I guess I should just name my blessings. I get to dance, I get to be in a clean city, I have Ian, I get to spend time with him and his humor. I have Margaret. I am going to meet my family, (which may or may not be a good thing, but for possibilites sake, there it is.) So I guess that just leaves me about neutral. Or a little less. Oh well...

 
I just have to say this one thing. Yes, I have read my own writing and I know it can be tedious and taxing, frivolous and pure drivel, quality something it is not, and for me it is that way most of the time as well, but I see that it is better that I write it down than to actually speak that way or ever really say these things out loud either for embarrassment's sake or that I really wouldn't want to explain or justify anything that I write to the uninitiated. Most of the time, it is all just something pulled out of my ass in order to process whatever it was that I was feeling or experiencing about something that day. So Yes, I know, and I would appreciate any comments about it, but lets just understand that I am fully aware of its imperfection and pointless nature. I have to have an outlet somewhere.

 
Souls that go sailing
suspended in breath
like silks on a graceless
blue sea,
set adrift from their moorings
silent shows set swinging,
on the floor of my
scaring screen...

So we can sail these souls...
these vessels of parchment and blood,
'til this stone stops its spinning
When the silence fills my mouth,
and all that settles here
are just shimmering small memories of sailing

 
Simple Renders

I'd rather be with you
I'd rather know
Where I'll be,
What I want,
than always be convinced that I cannot.
I'd rather be with you

Everything can let me down
So I will just let that go
Let you turn that inside out
Cause I can't be sure about everything.
Just whats in me.

 
DUST CANNOT BE RENDERED:

So yeah, I think things are alright with me and trouble. I have learned to deal, if not operate under the holy shadow of trouble. Like some sort of Margaret Cho-P. Diddy-Maria Callas sorta thing. Reinvented Reincarnated Resilient, if not Retarded. I guess we all live on.

I want a kitty. This is just not some whim, where I don't know what I am getting myself into. I did have a cat in Seattle already, and I know the care and upkeep. That has nothing to do with this. The other day I was at Ian's house and we were watching a show or I was watching him play video games, which is much more entertaining than it sounds, and their kitty, Alex was being a spaz. Nothing new. What was so cute, or funny or messed up, or any number of those, was when I saw out of the corner of my eye, this little black streak hurtling towards the door to the trash in the kitchen. Alex ran headlong into the door, with a clang, like some mad toro impression, and just sat there, looking around as if to say, "Oh yeah, I totally meant to do that. It was nothing." I laughed SO hard! Yeah she might be a little weird and not the most smart or cuddly, but she would be something a lot nicer to come home to the HFH Asshole (Hank From Hell...Asshole). At least she couldn't be blamed for the empty lube bottles scattered about the house. Yuck. So anyways, I want a cat instead of a room-mate, is that too much to ask for?!

 
So, I guess this is it, my place, my things. I have a nagging suspicion that I might become ridiculously attached to this outlet. C'est la! So:


UNRENDERED:
So this is how it is. I haven't seen my family in 6 years. I only started to speak with a few of them in the last few months. I have grown, on my own, I have survived in spite of all that has happened to me, all the shit I endured, alone, by myself, solo. And now that, for some reason my family is seeing it necessary to try and re-involve themselves in my life, I am aggravatingly finding myself being forced to depend on them and it is unrendereing the very security that is me.. Why could they not have seen me, when I was living on the streets and keeping myself alive, why could they not have seen me, when I fought for and recieved a high paying job when I was 17, why couldn't they have seen me when Justin died, and I was strong enough to keep going, keep believeing that I could find happiness and love out there always, why couldn't they have seen me making something out of myself, in the community and with Danceworks, traveling all over the world, why couldn't they have seen me strong, capable and happy. All they get to see is me in need, and being forced to ask for help from those who I try and avoid.

But, after all ofthat, maybe it is because, I guess, if I cannot show them my weakness, they cannot show me their frailty. My family is so prideful, so hell-bent on showing the world that they are strong, and righteous above all, good, that they cannot even see that they are sacrificing everything for that something that they cannot achieve. And I cannot show them, that though I have proved that I do not need them in my life, that I can live without, it still does not erase the fact that I have always WANTED them in my life, wanted that closeness that I felt as a child, the idea that I belong to somtething that no matter what else happened to me, I was always a part of, that there was always something I could come home to. Arggh! Arggh! Drama hurts.