*laughs* Since I am ONLY fluent in English, this is a pretty easy challenge!
Spanish
It would be so much easier to land a job if I spoke Spanish! Being in a social service, most of the job descriptions say "bilingual preferred" or something along those lines. I'm not. How many employers have passed me by because of that?
Chinese
I know a few phrases, and that always leads to questions and I have to admit that I only know enough to be polite. ni hao. zai jian. xie xie. bu ke qi. That's about it. This, from the most commonly spoken language in the world. *sigh* Besides, most of the highly emotional expressions in FireFly come from Chinese.
German
There isn't really a popular reason for wanting to speak German, but since I spend time on Brettspielwelt, it would be handy on occasion.
French
This is the only language I ever took an actual class in. Unfortunately, the instructor was a RUSSIAN who had lived in SWITZERLAND. The resulting accent was completely unrecognizable. I squeaked by with a C- and was grateful that I was earning a science degree! Still...I wouldn't mind being fluent.
Português
Porque aparentemente eu tenho um admirador internacional e eu acho que seria fantástico para conhecer essa pessoa. *sorrisos* Como é, o Google Translate é uma grande assistência!
Legalese
For those who don't count Portuguese, I worked in politics...reading though bills and laws is a serious pain in the ass! If I were fluent in the language of legal documents, such work wouldn't be such a chore! oiy!
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Five Reasons You Feel The Way You Do Right Now
mmmmmm...This means I have to explain how I feel right now, and that is always pretty complex. Maybe I'll touch on the first five that come to mind and explain them?
Proud
Most parents can understand this one...I am extremely proud of my kids. They are polite, empathetic, smart, friendly, creative, and very self-sufficient for their ages. I know I express frustrations with them and motherhood often, but as individuals, I am generally proud to say "These are my kids!"
Crampy
heh. It's moontime. 'Nough said!
Lazy
Saturday morning, who doesn't feel a little lazy? I'd like to crawl back in bed and spend the day doing nothing. The to-do list is a little long for that, though. Oh well...
Frustrated
That forementioned to-do list is NEVER done. There's always another load of laundry, toys to be picked up, yardwork to be done, or floors to scrub. That's just the day-to-day stuff, too. It doesn't go into major projects that the City likes to remind me about once in a while...the peeling paint on the windows and garage, the chipped siding, the unfinished window wells. Inside, there are unfinished projects as well. GAH! There's never enough time and money to get it all done!
Grateful
But ya know something? I am grateful for the life I have. My position in life is enviable, in my opinion. Beloved gives so much of himself to make it possible. Our friends lend a hand when we ask for help. Our kids are healthy. Our leisure time is not idle by our own choice. In general, life is full of possibility and potential, and it is only limited by me. *wry smile* Sometimes that is overwhelming...but I am grateful to have that kind of problem in the Big Picture.
Proud
Most parents can understand this one...I am extremely proud of my kids. They are polite, empathetic, smart, friendly, creative, and very self-sufficient for their ages. I know I express frustrations with them and motherhood often, but as individuals, I am generally proud to say "These are my kids!"
Crampy
heh. It's moontime. 'Nough said!
Lazy
Saturday morning, who doesn't feel a little lazy? I'd like to crawl back in bed and spend the day doing nothing. The to-do list is a little long for that, though. Oh well...
Frustrated
That forementioned to-do list is NEVER done. There's always another load of laundry, toys to be picked up, yardwork to be done, or floors to scrub. That's just the day-to-day stuff, too. It doesn't go into major projects that the City likes to remind me about once in a while...the peeling paint on the windows and garage, the chipped siding, the unfinished window wells. Inside, there are unfinished projects as well. GAH! There's never enough time and money to get it all done!
Grateful
But ya know something? I am grateful for the life I have. My position in life is enviable, in my opinion. Beloved gives so much of himself to make it possible. Our friends lend a hand when we ask for help. Our kids are healthy. Our leisure time is not idle by our own choice. In general, life is full of possibility and potential, and it is only limited by me. *wry smile* Sometimes that is overwhelming...but I am grateful to have that kind of problem in the Big Picture.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Five People You’d Like To Kill
Definitely should have looked at the topics more closely. I don't know I can answer this one. It isn't that I worry about offending anyone; rather...I know some of what happens when you kill someone. I'm quite certain that the author of this challenge didn't mean LITERALLY, but I choose not to dealing with petty irritations and dramatizing them.
I guess today is a "day off". :-P
I guess today is a "day off". :-P
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Five Biggest Fictional Crushes
Oh dear...maybe I should have read these topics more closely??? Some of my fictional crushes have been a little cliche and embarrassing... Well, I can claim youth, right? *chuckles* Honestly, I had to think and dig a little for FIVE...Most of my fictional enjoyment highlights strong female characters, and while I enjoy them as role models, I don't exactly "crush" on them.
Jean-Luc Picard
Definitely at the top of the list, the Star Trek - Next Generation captain held my fascination for many of my early teen years. Someone is probably laughing, knowingly even, but the aloof authority figure who harbors deep feelings still holds appeal to my romantic side. Let me melt through the exterior, let me take you where no one has gone before...*blush* yeah... I still love Earl Grey tea, too.
Nick Knight
I imagine every girl has a crush on some vampire character at some point, and Nick Knight was mine. I've tried to go back and watch the series, and while the show is a little campy, Knight still strikes a sympathetic cord for me. The struggle to control the monster within and the search for personal nirvana is a strong drive.
Vanyel Ashkevron
This is the protagonist in Mercedes Lackey's The Last Herald Mage trilogy. While decidedly gay, Van has a lot of similarities to Picard: authoritative, powerful, aloof...AND magical and tragic to boot! His story starts when he is sixteen years old, so he was even my own age. What's not to like?
Sam Gribley
I don't know if Sam counts as a crush...but I certainly imagined his story as my own. I mentioned Jean Craighead George's book, My Side of the Mountain, among my favorite books. Here is a boy who has enough hutzpah and knowledge to survive ALONE in the mountains. He makes a home by burning out a tree hollow, trains his own falcon, and eventually teaches the grown-ups who find him how to live with the land. ♪♪♪AWE-SOME♪♪♪
Achilles
I think I'm reaching at this point, but the tragic hero holds some appeal. Being born to be the gods' pawn has got to be tough, especially when you are recorded as the handsomest hero of a nation. The rage and agony of losing so much (Briseis, his lover-slave, Patroclus, his best friend, and Penthesilia, the Amazon queen) makes you sympathetic to the war hero, despite the berserk viciousness. Homer's Iliad is not a book I can see myself re-reading...EVER...but like the Arthurian legends, there are many stories that highlight Achilles. I'll admit that Brad Pitt's Achilles is damnably pretty...
Jean-Luc Picard
Definitely at the top of the list, the Star Trek - Next Generation captain held my fascination for many of my early teen years. Someone is probably laughing, knowingly even, but the aloof authority figure who harbors deep feelings still holds appeal to my romantic side. Let me melt through the exterior, let me take you where no one has gone before...*blush* yeah... I still love Earl Grey tea, too.
Nick Knight
I imagine every girl has a crush on some vampire character at some point, and Nick Knight was mine. I've tried to go back and watch the series, and while the show is a little campy, Knight still strikes a sympathetic cord for me. The struggle to control the monster within and the search for personal nirvana is a strong drive.
Vanyel Ashkevron
This is the protagonist in Mercedes Lackey's The Last Herald Mage trilogy. While decidedly gay, Van has a lot of similarities to Picard: authoritative, powerful, aloof...AND magical and tragic to boot! His story starts when he is sixteen years old, so he was even my own age. What's not to like?
Sam Gribley
I don't know if Sam counts as a crush...but I certainly imagined his story as my own. I mentioned Jean Craighead George's book, My Side of the Mountain, among my favorite books. Here is a boy who has enough hutzpah and knowledge to survive ALONE in the mountains. He makes a home by burning out a tree hollow, trains his own falcon, and eventually teaches the grown-ups who find him how to live with the land. ♪♪♪AWE-SOME♪♪♪
Achilles
I think I'm reaching at this point, but the tragic hero holds some appeal. Being born to be the gods' pawn has got to be tough, especially when you are recorded as the handsomest hero of a nation. The rage and agony of losing so much (Briseis, his lover-slave, Patroclus, his best friend, and Penthesilia, the Amazon queen) makes you sympathetic to the war hero, despite the berserk viciousness. Homer's Iliad is not a book I can see myself re-reading...EVER...but like the Arthurian legends, there are many stories that highlight Achilles. I'll admit that Brad Pitt's Achilles is damnably pretty...
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Five Favorite Historical Figures
Truly historical? I am not exactly a history buff. It wasn't a subject I struggled with (like math), but it also wasn't exactly my favorite class, either. So who in the last 3 or 4 millenia am I really interested in? Sadly, several of them are probably fictional!
King Arthur of Britain
I was told the stories of Camelot as a child, and Arthur has always held my fascination. Although most of the tales are romanticized and set in the 12th century (whereas Arthur probably lived in the 5th or 6th century), I have read many of the different adaptations, including struggling through Geoffrey of Monmouth's "History of the Kings of Britain".
Robin of Locksley
Robin Hood and his band of Merry men are usually portrayed as living in Sherwood Forest, in Nottinghamshire. Their adventures generally surround the "rob from the rich to give to the poor" ideal. There is no solid evidence that Robin Hood as we know him actually existed. However, the oldest references are from the English Justice rolls, where the names 'Robinhood', 'Robehod' or 'Robbehod' have appeared from time to time since 1228. That suggests (to me, at least) that "Robin Hood" was the medieval equivalent to "Joe Smoe" if you were arrested. :-P
Lady of Ch'iao Kuo
(Please don't ask me for the actual pronunciation...I will butcher it!) Born a tribal princess in the early 500s, the Lady of Ch'iao Kuo was a strong and cunning woman who integrated her native Hsien with the invading Chinese. Through her efforts in both education and negotiation, she brought peace to the warring factions and gained respect of the Ch'en Dynasty...no small feat for a woman in China in the 500s!
Joan of Arc
Most people know her story...the Maid of Oleans led the French army to several important victories during the Hundred Years' War and changed the course of European history in the 1400s. Anyone who holds to their beliefs through a gruesome and public death is pretty incredible to me. The fact that Joan was an illiterate peasant girl of 17 when she became a national hero is amazing.
To be honest, I spent quite a bit of time mulling over a fifth historical hero to name. Partly because I wanted to name someone who might really qualify as a hero...someone who changed the world for the better. My mother was one of my initial picks. She certainly changed my world. She was an amazing and admirable person, but she's not someone you can read about in a history book. Then I remembered.
Every once in a while, we have a very personal brush with history. My fifth historical figure is
Molapetene Collins Ramusi
I knew him as "Uncle Mafa", a big black man who visited us and made 'African Chicken' for us on occasion. He first came to my family through my grandfather. The story is that Mafa simply walked up to my Opa, threw his arms around him, and cried out, "My American father!" and Opa brought him home. I have vague memories of attending his traditional wedding at a house in Hyde Park, being the only white girl there, and the amazing outfits. It was clear the man I knew as "Uncle" was someone important, but I didn't understand his story until much later, when I read his autobiography, first typed by my mother. How he had grown up in the Batlokwa tribe, aspired to be Lebowa's Interior Minister, and was political exile from South Africa before I was born. He returned to South Africa after his wife died, and was killed himself shortly after Nelson Mandela was elected as president. I wish I knew more about the man himself, remembered more of the times he was a part of my life. As it is, I am awed to have known him at all.
King Arthur of Britain
I was told the stories of Camelot as a child, and Arthur has always held my fascination. Although most of the tales are romanticized and set in the 12th century (whereas Arthur probably lived in the 5th or 6th century), I have read many of the different adaptations, including struggling through Geoffrey of Monmouth's "History of the Kings of Britain".
Robin of Locksley
Robin Hood and his band of Merry men are usually portrayed as living in Sherwood Forest, in Nottinghamshire. Their adventures generally surround the "rob from the rich to give to the poor" ideal. There is no solid evidence that Robin Hood as we know him actually existed. However, the oldest references are from the English Justice rolls, where the names 'Robinhood', 'Robehod' or 'Robbehod' have appeared from time to time since 1228. That suggests (to me, at least) that "Robin Hood" was the medieval equivalent to "Joe Smoe" if you were arrested. :-P
Lady of Ch'iao Kuo
(Please don't ask me for the actual pronunciation...I will butcher it!) Born a tribal princess in the early 500s, the Lady of Ch'iao Kuo was a strong and cunning woman who integrated her native Hsien with the invading Chinese. Through her efforts in both education and negotiation, she brought peace to the warring factions and gained respect of the Ch'en Dynasty...no small feat for a woman in China in the 500s!
Joan of Arc
Most people know her story...the Maid of Oleans led the French army to several important victories during the Hundred Years' War and changed the course of European history in the 1400s. Anyone who holds to their beliefs through a gruesome and public death is pretty incredible to me. The fact that Joan was an illiterate peasant girl of 17 when she became a national hero is amazing.
To be honest, I spent quite a bit of time mulling over a fifth historical hero to name. Partly because I wanted to name someone who might really qualify as a hero...someone who changed the world for the better. My mother was one of my initial picks. She certainly changed my world. She was an amazing and admirable person, but she's not someone you can read about in a history book. Then I remembered.
Every once in a while, we have a very personal brush with history. My fifth historical figure is
Molapetene Collins Ramusi
I knew him as "Uncle Mafa", a big black man who visited us and made 'African Chicken' for us on occasion. He first came to my family through my grandfather. The story is that Mafa simply walked up to my Opa, threw his arms around him, and cried out, "My American father!" and Opa brought him home. I have vague memories of attending his traditional wedding at a house in Hyde Park, being the only white girl there, and the amazing outfits. It was clear the man I knew as "Uncle" was someone important, but I didn't understand his story until much later, when I read his autobiography, first typed by my mother. How he had grown up in the Batlokwa tribe, aspired to be Lebowa's Interior Minister, and was political exile from South Africa before I was born. He returned to South Africa after his wife died, and was killed himself shortly after Nelson Mandela was elected as president. I wish I knew more about the man himself, remembered more of the times he was a part of my life. As it is, I am awed to have known him at all.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Top Five Things That Happened To You This Past Year
Five things was a little too easy, in my opinion. I saw it as "five things you can't live without" and answering "food, water, air, sleep, and shelter". Booooorrrrrring. But TOP five? That is more about what really had an impact.
Beloved's mother died.
This changed things in a lot of ways. She was a highlight in our children's lives when she was well, and her willingness to watch the kids enabled a lot of our adult time. We have had a challenging bunch of years in taking care of her, and that burden is now gone. It is hard to gauge how Beloved and RedVulpes have dealt with the loss...in some ways, they seem unaffected, but I don't believe that is really the case.
I hit some double-depression issues.
Living with dysthymia puts me at a higher risk for depression, and I slid into some ugly places last summer. While I wasn't incapacitated by it, everything around me fell apart. I don't know how much the kids were really aware of it...Momma just let them watch a LOT of television...but I was peripherally aware that we weren't making it to parks or getting out much. The house was awful, my inside plants withered. By August, I realized how bad things were getting and quadrupled my antidepressant and made better efforts to get the sleep and space I needed to find my way out. I'm feeling a little edgy as the doctor is cutting back now...as if yesterday's rant wasn't evidence of that...but I think I can avoid the trap again...for now.
Boy started school full-time.
Wow...there is an entire new set of possibilities that are starting to open up. With Boy gone for seven hours, I am spending real focus with Girl for the first time. I see the developments Boy makes at school. I am starting to imagine new roles that I might take as my daily responsibilities shift from children to...something.
We were publicly outted to my family on poly-lifestyle choices.
This was odd and sad to me. My family has always known that I led a different kind of life, with drum circles, roommates, and alternative beliefs. I have never http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifhidden our poly choices, but likewise,http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif I haven't paraded it. Because I pushed some boundaries, questions were asked...unfortunately, the questions were not asked to me. Some of the people that I have admired have judged me and found me despicable for my choices; bitter resentment I never knew existed was unearthed. The hurts in this space are deep and confusing to me, and have drastically changed my interactions among certain family members.
Beloved and I did some self-indulgence.
Most of our seventeen years together have been spent very frugally and we take a lot of pride in how well we have managed. Last year, we did some real splurging for the first time. We spent a night at the Herrington Inn and visited the Kingsley House. We enjoyed a couple of Groupons for hotel stays and took advantage of GoldStar for theater tickets. For us, it was a very decadent year, and I discovered that we could manage doing this and not destroy our budget entirely. THAT is pretty cool!
Beloved's mother died.
This changed things in a lot of ways. She was a highlight in our children's lives when she was well, and her willingness to watch the kids enabled a lot of our adult time. We have had a challenging bunch of years in taking care of her, and that burden is now gone. It is hard to gauge how Beloved and RedVulpes have dealt with the loss...in some ways, they seem unaffected, but I don't believe that is really the case.
I hit some double-depression issues.
Living with dysthymia puts me at a higher risk for depression, and I slid into some ugly places last summer. While I wasn't incapacitated by it, everything around me fell apart. I don't know how much the kids were really aware of it...Momma just let them watch a LOT of television...but I was peripherally aware that we weren't making it to parks or getting out much. The house was awful, my inside plants withered. By August, I realized how bad things were getting and quadrupled my antidepressant and made better efforts to get the sleep and space I needed to find my way out. I'm feeling a little edgy as the doctor is cutting back now...as if yesterday's rant wasn't evidence of that...but I think I can avoid the trap again...for now.
Boy started school full-time.
Wow...there is an entire new set of possibilities that are starting to open up. With Boy gone for seven hours, I am spending real focus with Girl for the first time. I see the developments Boy makes at school. I am starting to imagine new roles that I might take as my daily responsibilities shift from children to...something.
We were publicly outted to my family on poly-lifestyle choices.
This was odd and sad to me. My family has always known that I led a different kind of life, with drum circles, roommates, and alternative beliefs. I have never http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifhidden our poly choices, but likewise,http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif I haven't paraded it. Because I pushed some boundaries, questions were asked...unfortunately, the questions were not asked to me. Some of the people that I have admired have judged me and found me despicable for my choices; bitter resentment I never knew existed was unearthed. The hurts in this space are deep and confusing to me, and have drastically changed my interactions among certain family members.
Beloved and I did some self-indulgence.
Most of our seventeen years together have been spent very frugally and we take a lot of pride in how well we have managed. Last year, we did some real splurging for the first time. We spent a night at the Herrington Inn and visited the Kingsley House. We enjoyed a couple of Groupons for hotel stays and took advantage of GoldStar for theater tickets. For us, it was a very decadent year, and I discovered that we could manage doing this and not destroy our budget entirely. THAT is pretty cool!
Monday, March 5, 2012
feeling stung...
I started writing this after talking to Beloved and realizing that I was looking at my calendar and my relationships and desperately wanting to dump EVERYTHING and run and hide. As if I haven't been doing enough hiding as it is.
Songs from Nancy Ford and Gretchen Cryer's "Getting My Act Together And Taking It On The Road" plays through my mind.
That phone just keeps on ringin'
and somebody's at my door.
I feel all pulled to pieces,
can't find inspiration any more.
There's so many people leaning on me
I'm getting run into the ground.
Everybody's wanting something from me
and there's not enough of me to go around...
Damn it...I am trying...TRYING!...to regain my stride. I want to celebrate the coming of spring and I want to look forward to sharing my thoughts and feelings again. Instead, I am feeling increasingly clausterphobic. I am finding myself saying little more than NO to everyone these days. No, I'm not better. No, I am not feeling up for going out. No, I don't see you as a priority right now. (Ha! I started to say I don't want to...but I didn't!) No. NO. NO!
I always tried to please
I could make him happy
and put him at his ease.
He'd say "Smile."
So I'd smile, smile, smile...
Sometimes I feel like a selfish, whinny child about wanting...needing...my alone space. But if I don't say something, then everyone assumes I'm just fine, which I am. I'm F.I.N.E.! If only I can smile, if only I can pretend, if only I can fake it...
(Dear Tom)
you thought I was so loving
(Dear Tom)
you thought I was a saint
(Dear Tom)
you thought that I was perfect...
but I ain't...
I have been accused of playing with people's hearts, of leading people on, of being something deceptive, cruel, and evil. Maybe from one point of view, that is accurate. I feel like I can give something. An understanding ear. An ego boost. A clear mirror. Tough love. I am drawn to people who have needs that I think I can fill.
The problem that I find over and over and over again is that the need isn't really "fillable" with what I have to offer. It's like the classic addiction...the first time is amazing, the second time you need a stronger hit, and by the third time, you're hooked and can't function without it. When the supply runs dry, life as you know it breaks into a million pieces, and it's my fault for giving you that first time.
I closed you out
by asking for nothing
'cause I needed someone to blame
You couldn't give
what I didn't ask for...
It was the perfect game.
It isn't that I don't ask for anything. I do ask, and I think that initially, I ask pretty firmly. Don't expect more from me than I can give. Remember that I have my own family, my other relationships, and myself to take care of. Respect my boundaries.
I don't respect my boundaries, though. If you ask, I try to make it happen. Damn it, I am a PIXIE and I CAN make miracles happen. Just see if I can't...
Because I get addicted to your happiness, your smile, your approval, your desire. I crave the satisfaction of being the one who delivered when everyone else failed. As your surprise and delight dim to expectation and demands, I wilt under the strain. I can't... and I don't want to... fall from my lips more and more. I feel like a failure. Like a mere mortal, complete with limitations, irritations, and frustrations. I become anxious and angry and I blame you for being unreasonable. I pull away, hard and fast, and we both crash headlong into a pit of despair...
A fine mess I've made of things. Where I wrote with anger and frustration and cathartic determination, I now find myself worried about who will read this. You'll probably assume that YOU are the reason...that I am writing directly at YOU. That's not true...I am snowballing all the little individual irritations into an avalanche...no one person is to blame...it's not your fault...
Except that it is...
All I need is a little room,
a place that is fine and free.
A room where I can think to myself,
where nobody's needing me.
And then I'll find my way again,
and I will sing my song.
And I'll find the joy again
That comes when I'm feeling strong.
Like a cat who hides until its wounds are healed, I just need that room...that utterly alone space that makes me happy to be needed and wanted. *sigh* A couple of hours here and there isn't going to do it, for all that I wish it would and I am grateful for the support and willingness to make that happen...but...it isn't enough. And right now, I am scared because I just don't know where or when to find that place.
Please...please go away. Don't go away angry...but please, just go the fuck away.
Songs from Nancy Ford and Gretchen Cryer's "Getting My Act Together And Taking It On The Road" plays through my mind.
and somebody's at my door.
I feel all pulled to pieces,
can't find inspiration any more.
There's so many people leaning on me
I'm getting run into the ground.
Everybody's wanting something from me
and there's not enough of me to go around...
Damn it...I am trying...TRYING!...to regain my stride. I want to celebrate the coming of spring and I want to look forward to sharing my thoughts and feelings again. Instead, I am feeling increasingly clausterphobic. I am finding myself saying little more than NO to everyone these days. No, I'm not better. No, I am not feeling up for going out. No, I don't see you as a priority right now. (Ha! I started to say I don't want to...but I didn't!) No. NO. NO!
I could make him happy
and put him at his ease.
He'd say "Smile."
So I'd smile, smile, smile...
Sometimes I feel like a selfish, whinny child about wanting...needing...my alone space. But if I don't say something, then everyone assumes I'm just fine, which I am. I'm F.I.N.E.! If only I can smile, if only I can pretend, if only I can fake it...
you thought I was so loving
(Dear Tom)
you thought I was a saint
(Dear Tom)
you thought that I was perfect...
but I ain't...
I have been accused of playing with people's hearts, of leading people on, of being something deceptive, cruel, and evil. Maybe from one point of view, that is accurate. I feel like I can give something. An understanding ear. An ego boost. A clear mirror. Tough love. I am drawn to people who have needs that I think I can fill.
The problem that I find over and over and over again is that the need isn't really "fillable" with what I have to offer. It's like the classic addiction...the first time is amazing, the second time you need a stronger hit, and by the third time, you're hooked and can't function without it. When the supply runs dry, life as you know it breaks into a million pieces, and it's my fault for giving you that first time.
by asking for nothing
'cause I needed someone to blame
You couldn't give
what I didn't ask for...
It was the perfect game.
It isn't that I don't ask for anything. I do ask, and I think that initially, I ask pretty firmly. Don't expect more from me than I can give. Remember that I have my own family, my other relationships, and myself to take care of. Respect my boundaries.
I don't respect my boundaries, though. If you ask, I try to make it happen. Damn it, I am a PIXIE and I CAN make miracles happen. Just see if I can't...
Because I get addicted to your happiness, your smile, your approval, your desire. I crave the satisfaction of being the one who delivered when everyone else failed. As your surprise and delight dim to expectation and demands, I wilt under the strain. I can't... and I don't want to... fall from my lips more and more. I feel like a failure. Like a mere mortal, complete with limitations, irritations, and frustrations. I become anxious and angry and I blame you for being unreasonable. I pull away, hard and fast, and we both crash headlong into a pit of despair...
A fine mess I've made of things. Where I wrote with anger and frustration and cathartic determination, I now find myself worried about who will read this. You'll probably assume that YOU are the reason...that I am writing directly at YOU. That's not true...I am snowballing all the little individual irritations into an avalanche...no one person is to blame...it's not your fault...
Except that it is...
a place that is fine and free.
A room where I can think to myself,
where nobody's needing me.
And then I'll find my way again,
and I will sing my song.
And I'll find the joy again
That comes when I'm feeling strong.
Like a cat who hides until its wounds are healed, I just need that room...that utterly alone space that makes me happy to be needed and wanted. *sigh* A couple of hours here and there isn't going to do it, for all that I wish it would and I am grateful for the support and willingness to make that happen...but...it isn't enough. And right now, I am scared because I just don't know where or when to find that place.
Please...please go away. Don't go away angry...but please, just go the fuck away.
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