Eat it up.
feed on the garbage...
Maggot.

Pretty girls make graves.
You're the one for me, Fatty.

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

Sleep is a terrible commitment. Sleep admits defeat. To be tied to sleep and caught and choked and held to it... is an unsettling idea. Sleep is competition. The knots it creates are at odds with mine. Detangling is detaching. Detaching is crucial in this escape. To be freed from the bonds I've fastened is frightening, but impossible without permission. I enjoy navigating the twists and snags almost much as their production.
Weaving crossgrain on my tapestry, I look at the threads and I smile. I tie off. My part is finished. I wonder what others will come up with. A smile crosses my face again. No one out weaves the spider. To sleep is to surrender. Handle my fabric carefully. Spiders sometimes bite. It's tough to tell what stays awake spinning while a pillow is beneath a head.
Fingers stiffened.
Eight legs above.
Oh, if only I had more appendages like my friend the spider... so much more work could be done!
Alas, I must finish each task one by one, sharpening pins and needles is always so difficult when I find someone on them.
Sweet dreams my friends.

No Title

You really want to read all of this? I don't know who's crazier me for writing this... or whomever you are for going and reading it... Think about it.







i love my Jenna




As we spent the last night on Maudlin street, goodbye house forever. Love at first sight may sound trite, but it's true you know.

As I glance over...waiting...just breathe again.
The ground is frozen. You don't belong there.
In my lap
Burrowed
Left behind
Every night
Oh I was so selfish then
Always there
Tug at the rug
Self imposed sterile existence
I will be soon
I want you to breathe again
Lift up your head
The way you turned it to face me just before you went away
Head on paw
Stiffened the back I used to rub
Oh I do love you


We're after the same rainbow's end. We were going to see the world together. It was just around the bend. Wake up. Poke your head out from behind the curtain behind me, come look outside. I wish you were soft again. I need you to be with me...in this Place. I wish I were twelve again... because then you'd only be seven. We could run around the yard together again. I'd even let you catch that squirrel this time.

Who am I going to walk with now? I'm sorry I didn't wrap you in a nicer blanket last night. I'm sorry I made you take a bath when you didn't want to. I'm sorry that I trimmed your ear hair. I'm sorry I made you drink that medicine with the old turkey baster. I'm sorry I didn't lay by you more. Most of all I'm sorry that you're gone.

...But I'm still going to the dog bakery to buy your birthday carrot cake this year. Now it really blows that yours is the same day as mine...
We were meant to be.
You weren't supposed to go yet. I don't want to bury you in a couple hours. I want you to stay asleep in your spot... and then wake up after you've gotten plenty of rest, and we'll hop on the couch when mom isn't looking, and then we'll eat all of the carrots we like! and no one will stop us and say that we need to save some for soup. And then we'll spend the rest of the day exploring around outside, and it won't be cold! and ...

I just want more day with you. I wish you would have told me earlier that you were going. I'm sorry I can't come along just yet.

...You've never been anywhere without me before... I wish I could have baked you your favorite dog biscuits one more time. The ones that I make with the heart shaped cookie cutter.

I know I don't have much to go on with this seeing as you're the only dog I ever had, but I think, I know, that you're the sweetest bestest most wonderfulest dog that ever lived. And even if I ever have another dog (for whatever reason...believe me, you'll never be replaced) I won't ever love them the same way I love you (and this is a secret...just in case it happens...which I highly doubt it will... but if it does... it'll have to be secret because we wouldn't want to hurt their feelings) ... I'll always love you more.

Come back Jenna. It's hard seeing you this way.

Puppy Love

Life is everywhere. People have babies all the time. Almost always there is someone I know who is pregnant or has a baby. I've even been so privileged as to assist in a delivery. Life comes about frequently, joyously, and even sometimes unexpectedly.The excitement builds up in an expectant mother. The anticipation is almost too much to bear. There are fears, but they always pass.

The first wail of a newborn is both a little frightening and a cause for joy. A small new person breathes their first breath of air. The body is wet, and in my experience ... very very pink. It's a wonder to see the little hairs on a newborn's head. The small fingers are all equal in size. The fragile body is wrapped tightly in a blanket, but even then it's difficult to know what to say, or how to behave, or even how to feel. Birth invariably has had a strange effect on me. It's surreal. I'm seldomly able to grasp the idea of this new teensy individual existing in the world that I know. There are faint doubts in my head surrounding the whole idea of it.



Life is easy. We're all living right now. This passing moment, every feeling, every sensation, every regret, every pain of jealousy, the agony of feeling alone, the joy of company, the promise of hope, the itch on your back, the taste in your mouth, the memories gliding through your mind, they are all a part of existence in this world. These are things we really know. We all share in them to some degree. It's a pretty thing, this beingness, even when it feels ugly.



To all good things there must come an end.

Repose.

Sleep Eternal.



Death is unavoidable. Much like birth, I am unable to comprehend it when it occurs. I never had the opportunity to try either, but here it is ... a few feet away. Death is mysterious. I don't trust it at all! Tonight my part in it was unrelated to my part in birth. I was a witness once again. That is where the relation ends. That is how it feels. That feeling is false.
The truth is much like the birth I was present for, this participation in the experience of death was also a privilege. I'm thankful that my darling waited for me before she passed. It was bittersweet to be so close to one I loved so dearly when the time came for her saddeningly slow and slightly painful departure. I look even now and half expect her soft black ears to perk up a little. Maybe, just maybe if I whisper her name her eyes will open and meet mine again... It's a beautiful falsity. I don't curse death. I welcome it for it's own sake, even so far as to remove it from life... Death is make believe, it's conjured up as something that it is not becasue we cannot explain it readily or particularly. There is no such thing as death ...only a changing of worlds.





In Memoriam

Jenna, lovely little angel who has left me to frolic the pastures of heaven and to amuse herself with the chasing of rabbits (never catching...playful chasing) and perhaps even to rest on a few beds. My wonderful Jenna... Walking up the steps and opening the door I would always hear her tail beating against the entryway wall... barely able to contain her happiness that I was home. Jenna my sweet... Pulling down the bed covers and climbing onto the pillow when no one was looking. Jenna my baby... Taking her food and eating under the table at dinnetime. Jenna my n-n-enna... always there when I needed a hug. Jenna... I miss you.

The Elysian fields called her to play and I'm certain that I'll get to pet her again one day. I hope they have carrots there! They were her favorite... just like her mommy.






That's my baby... The one on the left.

Quote of the day

"Le premier symptome de amour vrai chez un jeune homme, est la timidite, chez une jeune fille, est la hardiesse."
Don't judge me, I'm lovesick today. ... : )

Buried

I'm getting out, and climbing back in. I miss feeling a thousand things at once, being headstrong, not being a full on adult. He symbolizes my girlhood, the one I gave to a black and white creature stuffed with softness. Oh... they're one and the same? That's is true.
I feel a little bad...
I feel a little bad for the one with the mortgage, the responsibilities, the one with their head on straight. The one with everything in place... who invited me in... but it's too restricted there. I've always said I wanted to be put in a glass case, on display, a soulless mannequin with nothing to say, a perfectly groomed, well dressed monster. There's no passion there. The trophy in the box isn't the same as the little girl with mismatched socks who also "likes fall." I'm tired of being someone's perfect accessory. I'm just glad we started out by explaining to each other exactly what we were doing together and why. Mutual using is an easy thing to get out of... the guidelines were perfectly clear. A meaningless partnership... two people... together out of spite. Trying to prove something to the past... they "no longer care about." Neither of us would be here if that were true.
My eyes are sore from crying, I hate when people catch me.
I hate when people catch me... I've been caught.

Goodbye, I'm sure you'll have millions of dollars one day.

The problem with giving your whole self away is that there's a price for it, but you can't ever pay it because you have nothing more to spare... a person requires another, the one they're giving themselves to. That person is supposed to give a small share to make up the difference. They pay the toll so you don't have to. So you don't do crazy things. Then you get to go down the road together. Otherwise you're stuck there, walking the way alone, a fool.



If you don't like me, don't look at me.

I was not meant to write tonight...