Did I ever tell you the story

Thursday, March 31, 2011

of this or that?

Story story story, I frame everything in my mind as stories.  A story about Terrance, a story about Emily or Loki or Me.  Sometimes the stories fall over themselves trying to get out and sometimes I can't shake them out for the life of me.

Even if I see them peeking at me over the boulders of Inconsistency in my brain, and offer scones and peppermint tea, they will not come.

Othertimes, I have merely to linger on the doorstep while they race over my body in their effort to get out, be told, be known.

And sometimes I get so sick, so fucking sick of the part I have written for myself that I turn my back on them and refuse to engage because it just isn't fair, god dammit.  Just not fair.

Today is one of those days. I see them peeking. I see frolicking. I hear giggles and laughter from inside.

But I am sick to death of myself and my brain and the stories that demand my attention, or rather the stories that - if I attended to them, would take me away and out of this body to nicer places. Places where I was funny and charming and happy.  Places where I sit on terrasses with wine and sunshine and love.

Instead, I lay in my bed on cold spring days waiting for an epiphany that never comes.

3 Baleful Regards:

Mitzi Green said...

spring sucks, babycakes. i've decided it's even worse than fall. and closely tied with winter. actually i think it may suck MORE than winter. i can't believe i just said that.

take care of yourself. please. you're my favorite stalking victim. ;)

Anonymous said...

As someone once said to me:
Godspeed, cool shade, sweet water.

MarciaAnn said...

the sun's coming; don't despair; I think most of us NE girls feel that about this time regardless where we find ourselves geographically. Just don't head down the rabbit hole too far okay?

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